Perfect Chemistry: A Dylan O'Brien fanfic

In Trouble

Chapter 19

(Y/n) POV
"Dyl, how do you do this ques— "

Mr Smith entered the room, his face red with anger and his arms folded. His body was tense and veins could be seen popping out of his forehead.

The noise classroom immediately turned silent as everyone stared at the Chemistry teacher.

What happened? It's the first time I've seen him that angry.

"It was reported someone in this class got involved in a fight yesterday. Who was it?" He bellowed, his voice amplified across the classroom.

No reply.

He turned towards Dylan. The wounds he incurred had probably given him away. Dylan was about to get up from his seat when I tugged at his shirt, pulling him back down.

Dylan whispered, "What are you doing?"

I shook my head at him, leaving his head spinning in confusion.

Quick! I need to help him in some way. I can't let him get in trouble, not when it was because of me. Maybe it's not too late yet.

Within a second, I shot up from my seat, lowering my head. "I...I did it..." I admitted in a shaky voice.

Mr Smith raised an eyebrow in disbelief, then he shot a suspecting glance at Dylan.

"No, wait it's actual—-" Dylan fought to speak, but unfortunately, got cut by me.

"It's a misunderstanding. He...um...the injuries were from Lacrosse." I explained, hoping that that was a plausible excuse.

Mr Smith rolled his eyes. "You think I'm stupid enough to think they were from Lacrosse? Dylan was obviously the one who started the fight, but since you want to do this for him, how about the both of you go to detention?" He bellowed in a mocking tone.

He pointed at both Dylan and I, then swept his arm across, moving his finger to the outside of the classroom. "Principal's office now! And detention after school!"

I submissively nodded and dragged myself out of the classroom, Dylan followed suit.

Once we were out in the hallway, Dylan spoke, "You shouldn't have done that. You know, you didn't have to cover for me right? I should have just said it was me. It would make things way easier."

I let out a heavy breath. 'Well...technically, I was the root cause of this. I deserve to be punished, but not you. It's all my fault. Sorry Dyl."

"It's okay, (y/n). It's not even your fault, why're you apologizing?"

As we arrived outside the principal's office, both of us paused, hesitating. We exchanged a nod before I cautiously laid my hand on the metal door knob, twisted and pushed.

The door gave out an eerie creak. I flinched at the sound. The principal, Mr Johnson sat at his desk, his fingers interlaced together. He looked up at me. Next, he averted his gaze to Dylan, not surprised at all, as if anticipating us to come. His office had a dark and eerie vibe. The walls were painted dark grey, his velvet curtains drawn and books neatly placed against the shelves.

"Ms (y/l/n) and Mr O'Brien, I heard that you caused the fight? Hmm? Can you explain?" His deep voice sent chills down my spine. I immediately felt my blood turn to icy slush.

I nudged Dylan with my shoulder, looking at him for a brief moment, my eyes delivering the message: let me handle this. His head moved in an almost imperceptible nod and waiting for me to speak.

I fidgeted uncontrollably and spoke softly, "um...I...so it started off as..." I mentioned the whole story to the intimidating principal sitting right in front of me, but not the whole truth.