Playing Romance

Playing Romance: Part 1

Chapter 1: Feelings Like The Movies

Rae"s POV

I'm tapping my nails against the hard surface of the desk impatiently; I'm surprised they haven’t broken yet.  It is the second week, second week of school and I'm already back where I spent most of my last year, in detention.  You’d imagine that after a whole year in detention, that after having a chair with my name carved in it I would know better.  Apparently not, and the person to blame for all this is the same person glaring at me from across the room because I refuse to stop from rapping so loudly.

“Quit doing that,” he says sternly.  I don’t look at him, but it’s not hard to picture his angry expression, I’ve seen it so many times I have it memorized already.

My eyes are planted firmly on the clock; we’re still fifteen minutes away before we’re out, no, before our parents have to come and sign us out.  We are seniors, in high school, and we need our parents to sign us out of detention.

“I said quit it.”  His voice grows louder; I smirk.  His dark eyes stare me down and I feel them burn holes in the back of my head.

My phone is sending Mr. Henry’s desk into an earthquake with Sandra’s texts, whenever I don’t reply quickly she goes into a little panic.  Well considering that it’s been vibrating repeatedly for forty-five minutes the panic isn’t so small.  At least it’s nice to know she cares.

Now both of my hands are raping the desk with my fingertips, if she’s been spamming my phone for so long it has to be something important.

“I'm gonna break your arms if you keep doing that,” Hunter threatens.  I swivel on the chair and look at him; the smile on my face only ignites his anger more.

I drop my head back onto the desk behind me, running my fingers through my hair, “I’d like to see you try.”  I'm sure he’d more than love to try to pry my arms off my body; we’re both fighters, have been since little, so tearing each other apart is the way we like to…bond.  That’s also why our parents have to come for us.

“That’s enough!”  Henry jumps out of his chair and slams his hands on the desk.  “I’ve had enough of the both of you!”

Okay, so this may not be the first time within the first two weeks that we’ve been in here, but hey, they don’t really expect us to say sorry and hug like a bunch of kindergarteners do they?

“You two are old enough to know that violence isn’t the answer!...”  Here we go again with his ‘we’re adults, we should know better’ speech.  He does this every single time, and would you guess it, it’s still the same bunch of us in detention every day.

The timer on his desk buzzes off and cuts him short; I fly out of my desk and run to my phone, it has officially stopped receiving messages because the inbox is full of Sandra’s messages.  The threshold fills up with two police; they cross their arms and play their usual ‘bad cop’ roles.

They walk us over to the office, keeping a firm distance behind us.  We were playing, that was it; I guess pinning each other to the ground isn’t really playing in anyone else’s books except our own.  They sit us down across from each other in the main office.  All is well until I hear familiar designer shoes come hitting the floor to the office.

My head falls back onto the wall hard creating a loud thump that made the officers twinge, “fuck.”  I whisper to myself.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!  This is the sixth call already!”  Don’t let the Armani suit and perfect hair deceive you, when he’s mad, Dave means business.  The officers cower down, immediately feeling sorry for me.