Partners In Crime

Chapter 7

~Blythe~
"The Wrath Of Sober Danny"

I walked very very slowly towards the detention room, hoping that if I was slow enough something bad would happen-maybe I’d trip on someone’s leg and break my leg.  They wouldn’t make me go to detention with a freshly broken leg, right? Due to me deeply contemplating a painless way to break my leg, I ran face first into the back of a tall guy.

I stumbled back, nearly falling backwards onto the floor.  Thankfully, I caught myself right before I could crash.

“I am so sorry!  I-I wasn’t paying attention and-”

The guy turned around and I immediately stopped talking, the words clogging up in my throat.  I froze up and felt my face turn warm and pink.

“You!” Danny shouted at me, a stern scowl on his face.

“Um…  H-hi?” I forced out, my voice a high pitched squeak like a mouse.  Curse me and my voice.

He leaned against the wall, a bitter look in his eyes.  I rocked back and forth on my feet, feeling small-well, smaller than I already am-under his gaze.  All I could think was ‘please don’t kill me’, but at the same time I was like what the hell ‘kill me if you want’. He looked somewhat put together from the last time I saw him. I think I like drunk Danny better than sober Danny, sober Danny was full of anger.

“Who gave you these!” He yells, showing me my Instagram with the college of the thirty-two photos that Hermes gave me. Now I thought it was extremely funny, but apparently, Danny doesn’t have a funny bone in his body.

I opened my mouth to protest, but, as usual, words failed me.  Should I rat Hermes out? Should I lie? Even though Hermes would probably get a kick out of Danny’s reaction in general. I just had this feeling that it’s not really my place to tell him.  I didn’t want to get him in trouble; I barely knew the guy but I felt that it wouldn’t be really nice to throw him into the lion's den. Plus if I ratted him out, he’d probably be pretty annoyed with me.

“Hello?” He says, waving the phone in front of my face again. I needed to think fast, but who am I kidding?  I’m not a fast thinker. It takes me a whole hour to even get one coherent thought. I’ve been sitting here staring straight at his face for an awkward two minutes, my face scrunched in confusion.

“Uh… um…” I start, words trying to force their way out. Actual words on the tip of my tongue, but still not in the right order.  
“I can’t!” I exclaim, shaking my hands like jazz hands out of frustration. The only thing that could possibly make this situation worse is if I just started blurting out random things.

“Why not?” Danny asked with a raised eyebrow as I fought the urge to blurt out every embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.

The bell rings, being my saving grace.  Saved by the bell…  Hey isn’t that a TV show?  

I quickly rush through the doors, a sense of detention dread dancing within me.  How bad could detention really be? As I look past the blurry faces leaving the room, I see Phebe walking out. Her raven hair whisked across her dark hazel eyes. Phebe always wore a black sweatshirt and black ripped jeans, her typical outfit.

“Hey what are you doing here?” I ask, Phebe’s eyes darting up at me.

“It’s a long story… I'll tell you later.” She says, the second bell ringing as I entered and she exited. She probably did something small, she wasn't really one to break the rules.  I never imagined I would see her in detention. Then again, I never thought I would ever find myself in detention…

I take a seat in the front row in the center of the three desks. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about highschoolers, it’s that they hate sitting in the front where the teacher can see them.  The front row was my safe haven because nobody would want to sit with the crazy person at the front. I look around only to see that Danny has taken the spot right next to me. Out of all the spots in the room, out of all the thirty-something empty chairs in this room, you sit right next to me?  Me?! Great, just great. I'm starting to believe that I am cursed.  First, a drunk boy falls asleep on me, then I get detention, now I have to deal with angry Danny.  What did I do to deserve this messy luck? Is it karma from all the bugs I’ve killed in my house out of fear?  All the pencils I’ve stolen off of empty desks?