Detention With The Bad Boy

Ⅺ - Detention Tention

THE QUESTION lingered in my mind like persistent flies lingered to their food.

Why did the all mighty and popular Marcus Storm took the blame? It amazed me. It's my fault, not hers. His angry voice echoed in my head.

I recalled his expression. There were no hint of cockyness or mischievousness in his face. Not even a zilch. So really, why Marcus?

Is it because he really cared about me? He doesn't want me to get into trouble? It's just so . . . Un—Marcus.

Maybe he needs a favor? Or he actually demands something in return? Damn. This is getting me all worked up.

You're always worked up. That irritating voice in my head supplies.

Well, whatever. Whatever his reason is or reasons are, I'll still thank him. That only seems fair, right? I'll thank him later at detention and I'll also try to find out why he ignored me after Luke called me Prince's princess.

He really is weird. Mecurial and moody. One minute he's flashing me that infectious grin and the next, he's flipping me off and giving me the cold shoulder.

He's worse than a girl on her period. . .

I sighed in frustration as I walked towards the lobby, where my locker is located and re-run the scenario from Chemistry Class, trying my utmost best to trace where I went wrong with Storm.

Is it really because of Lucas calling me Ashton's Princess? I frowned, my brows knitting. "That's just absurd." I muttered flatly.

I took a turn to the lobby, still analyzing some issue at hand, when—

"Shit!"

"Ouch!"

I rubbed my forehead whilst trying my very best to not let the books that are tucked in my arm fall. "Ouch. I bumped hard."

I looked down and saw the person I'd bumped into. She's crouched down on the floor, her blue hair covering her face as she gathered her scattered books from all over the floor.

Help her, maybe? My subconscious barked at me.

"Shit. I'm sorry." I mumbled, leaning down and helping her with her heavy books. "I didn't mean to."

She looks up, a lopsided smile hangs on her lips. "Oh, it's fine. I'm sure it's my fault. I'm real clumsy."

"Hey, what do you know. Me too!" I grinned awkwardly and handed her the books.

She stood up, fixed her books and flashed me a simple smile before offering her hand. "I'm Tanya Grey."

"I'm Isay Hale." I smiled, shaking her cold hand.

At the sound of my name, her head dips slightly and she arches a perfectly plucked brow. "No. . . You threw that smoothie at Marcus Storm." Her tone is accusing and amused at the same time.

I blinked up at her, caught off guard by the statement. "Er, yes?"

I waited for her to yell at me. To tell me how wrong and idiotic my move is. How Marcus is the best and he shouldn't be treated like that, but nothing came.

She just stared at me, until her lips slowly twitched into a smile. "That's amazing. What you did."

"Wait, you're not frustrated?" I asked in disbelief.

I honestly thought she'd go bersek on me like all of the other girls who hails and adores Mr. Abercrombie Hot, but instead, she gave me a goofy smile. "Nope. I even like you more now because of that."