Dismissed ⤯ Tom Holland

10 | Detention

Y/N

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"I am aware you are from America," the Headmaster said, "but I doubt they allow students to break into their principal's office there."

I was sitting in the guest chair, facing the man's desk. His finger was tapping against the oak table, as he stared at me disapprovingly. What was I supposed to tell him? Hey, I saw a necklace thief going through your stuff, so I ditched class and started to search through the student files!

"You just transferred here three days ago," he continued, "and yet you have landed yourself a detention."

"A detention?" I said, sitting up in my chair, "for what?"

The headmaster cleared his throat, "have you not been listening?"

"Not really, no-"

Right...that probably wasn't the best thing to say. The headmaster's face turned a shade of red, most probably in offense to my statement, but he was cut off by his phone ringing. He shook his head at me, before picking up the call.

"Headmaster Holland," he said, "this is Dom, speaking."

I couldn't hear what was being said on the other side, but it sounded urgent. He spoke into the phone for a couple seconds, before hanging up.

"This conversation is not over," he said, "you'll be staying in this office for the rest of the day, and that will serve as your detention."

"What about my classes?"

"I'll have your classmates bring you the work. Stay put."

He rushed out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I hadn't been caught for anything before, and it was bugging me that the first time it happened, wasn't even on a real mission. I was just standing looking through meaningless files.

Which also brought back the fact that someone has my file.

I wasn't sure why they needed it, but obviously the thief knew I was after them. How else would they know to leave those notes under my door? The only question was how did they find out? And how long have they known? I crossed my arms, staring out the window.

Bradworth's class was already dismissed, most likely on their way to their next classes. The classes I would not be going to. I wasn't sure if this was a blessing in disguise, but I hated being in this office more and more with every second that passed.

"I didn't take you for a troublemaker," a voice said from behind me, "surprising."

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. I let out an annoyed puff of air, my eyes still glued to the window.

"What do you want, Tom?" I frowned.

He walked past me, sitting down in his father's chair. He was now directly facing me, a grin on his face. Oh, how I wish I could punch him.

"What are you in for?" he asked, before starting to guess, "stealing food? Breaking dress code?"

He paused, waiting another second before raising an eyebrow, "skipping class?"

"How did you know I skipped class?" I scoffed, refusing to look him in the eye.

"I saw you run off. You weren't that sly about it, if I'll be honest."

"Are you watching me?"

"I watch everybody," he shrugged, "you're not that special."

"And neither are you," I remarked, "so stop pretending you're better than everyone else."

I saw something flicker in the boy's eyes, but he leaned against the desk, placing his elbows on the table. He seemed amused, but at the same time a little hurt. I didn't know how easy it was to hurt his fragile ego.

"I'm not that bad, you know?" he said, "and I don't think I'm better than anyone else, for your information."

"Really? So everyone around here can show up to class late, talk back to the teacher and get away with it, and use their phones whenever they want?"

"You're new here, anyways," he sighed, "you don't know me."

"And I don't want to."

"And that's exactly the problem," Tom said, standing up, "I don't know where you got it from, but you think you know me. You don't, and you won't even give me a chance."

"Why would you want me to know you?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

"Because the last time I checked, I have feelings," he explained, "and when people call you self-centered, egotistical, and stuck-up, it hurts. Especially since I'm none of those things."

I'll admit it. He had a point, and now I was feeling somewhat guilty that I had assumed all these things about him. I hadn't spoken so much as a couple sentences to him before now.

"I'm sorry," I sighed, letting my arms uncross, "I'm not used to making friends to begin with, so I tend to assume the worst."

He nodded, sitting back down, "I used to be like that."

I laughed softly, shaking my head. The last time I checked, he wasn't an agent working for the BIC, so he really hadn't used to be like that.

"Let's start clean then," I offered, "from now on, I'll lose the attitude, and you'll lose your status."

"Lose my status?"

"Yeah," I shrugged, "stop using your dad as a way to get away with things. Show up on time to classes, and turn your phone in like the rest of us."

He seemed to process this at first, mulling it over. I knew he'd accept it, because negotiation was one of my majors. Agent things come in handy, you know?

"Deal," he said, sticking out his hand.

I shook it, a smile on my face, "deal."