Senior Year (Syndisparklez) -DISCONTINUED-

October: Greek Furies

The ISS room was stuffy and bleak. The resource officer was talking with his usual suspects--kids in and out of here on a monthly basis--and the white-board had 5 red rules long-since having dried permanently on from the one withered old hag of a woman that ran ISS. The penmanship was as rigid and structured as she was and Tom was not glad to see her again. She supervised after-school detentions as well. Tom loathed her.

If only he had the chance to warn Jordan--this woman loathed good students as much as she did wrong ones. She loathed every student that so as much breathed.

There was assigned seating and Jordan and him were on seperate sides of the room. Tom eyed Jordan who was reading the rules on the board with his brow furrowed.

1.     No Talking/Passing Notes--Keep your eyes and hands to yourself.
2.     No phones, laptops, calculators with internet access, tablets or likewise.
3.     You are not to doodle/work on extracurricular activities. Your work will be supervised.
4.     If you finish with your work early, you will be assigned a task
5.     Failure to comply or excessive complaining will result in detention or an immediate referral to the principal

Jordan immediately turned to look at Tom with such an utter look of loathing--as if he couldn’t believe Tom put him in this situation. Tom waited until the teacher turned her back and flipped Jordan off with his finger hidden behind his ear. The other boy rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Jordan pulled out his phone and jotted down the Textbook pages and Tom could scarcely pray for the fellow teen as the old hag turned on her heel--her wrinkled skin stretching into a scowl as she strode over to Jordan who was innocently trying to copy the assigned reading down.

It didn’t matter--it was too late.

With a clawed hand she pulled Jordan’s phone from his hand. Momentarily his hand close with shock, as if to grab the device again and she waved it in front of his nose as she leered down at him.

“A new one, heh! Well, boy—you can get this after ISS—we have a strict no electronic policy!”

“I was copying down my textbook page readings!” Jordan defended, in a rare outburst from him. Tom prayed she would go easy on him. His prayers were heard. She only raised an eyebrow and scowled.

Jordan closed his mouth—unable to argue further. He instead leaned back in his seat and pulled out his work from his back-pack and began organizing it in order of classes.

Tom took the time until the bell and subsequent pledge and announcements to mourn the death of some of his Snap Chat streaks he would keep up during this time. Usually he’d keep his phone on vibrate—but one, he didn’t have it because he was grounded. And worse—he’d been in ISS before—only thrice—he’d had detention much more often.
 
The former ISS sessions had been from his pranks—and one of those ISS sessions had been a blast, one of the coaches didn’t give two shits and him, Tony, Josh, and Josh’s girlfriend at the time—who had been a fucking champ on her part in the prank—had spent the whole ISS fucking around and running wild Snap Chat stories and entertaining all their friends. He even—on a dare, and using a fake email, which in retrospect meant nothing considering the video had revealed all their identitites—sent Principal Dianite a glorious video of the ISS room shenanigans.
 
He also served OSS once.

For that video.

OSS was a joke, he ran into Alair Dianite the day of his OSS at the store and told him that.

Dianite agreed, but said he opened it out of curiosity in front of the Vice Principal and some of the other teachers, because he was on his lunch break—he assured Tom he laughed internally as the primary ISS teacher Furia—who had been out for a chiropractor appointment (and had just returned), because she’s old—flew to the ISS room to tear into all of them and the coach. Suffice to say Tom was caught red-handed, still live-streaming the ISS shenanigans.