Whispers [complete and non-edited]

Chapter 13

As Laehal was walking down the hallway, the loud speaker came on.

"Ms. Fowler, Laehal is heading to your room now. He was with me. That will explain his absence," Mr. Dominic said into the speaker.

Laehal smiled. A get-out-of-detention-for-a-few-minutes-free card had been played. Hopefully the whole group of detentionees were due to gather in Ms. Fowler's room. If Delilah wasn't in his detention room, how would she ever know that Laehal had wanted to talk to her during their detention?

Laehal looked around the hallway to gain his bearings. He was just entering the east wing. Ms. Fowler's room wasn't too far now. His eyes passed over a big poster.

'CoLumBIAn DAnCe, frIDAy, novemBer 25TH. Dress CoDe: LaDIes musT weAr CoLumBIAn Dresses (CorseTs Are opTIonAL) men musT weAr CoLumBIAn TuxeDos'

Whoever made the poster had strange writing. Capitals in the middle of words. Strange indeed. Laehal continued down the hallway. There were a few other posters for the Columbian Dance that was to take place next Friday, but all were made by different artists. Laehal suspected that the History Option had made them.

Finally, Laehal reached Ms. Fowler's classroom. There were a few kids in the room already. He opened the door and walked inside.

"Welcome, Laehal. You are free to sit wherever you like," Ms. Fowler greeted him. She gestured around the classroom.

Laehal sat down in the desk beside Deeliah. She looked over the rim of her glasses at him, then snorted and looked back at her work.

"Laehal, you can work on any homework you have during your time here. There will be no talking allowed."

Laehal then remembered that he had left his Pythagorean Theorem homework in the principal's office. Oh well, he thought. I have time to work on it at home.

Laehal looked over at Deeliah. She was poring over a few blank papers. He looked around the room to see a few boys poised to throw a spitball war. No one was working on homework.

"Pst," Laehal whispered to Deeliah. "Pst."

"What do you want?" Deeliah whispered back.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Didn't you hear what Ms. Fowler said?"

"Yeah, but I need to talk to you."

"Wait till she has to go to the bathroom," said a different voice. It came from behind the two. "Then you'll get a good 6.3 minutes to talk. She always has to use the staff bathroom that's on the border between the west wing and central. Must be a germ thing."

"Thanks," Deeliah and Laehal whispered back. Then they fell silent. Laehal glanced up at the front of the room. Ms. Fowler had a travel mug in her hand. He guessed it was full of coffee, but he couldn't be sure.

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By the time Ms. Fowler had to go to the bathroom, Laehal had nearly fallen asleep twice. Ms. Fowler had caught him the first time, and he had the welt on his arm to prove it. The second time, Laehal had woken up when his head hit the desk.

He glanced at the clock. It had seemed like so long and yet it had only been 10 minutes.

He was just dazing off again when he heard Deeliah say to him "So what did you want to talk about?"

"I wanted to ask you why you got detention instead of giving it to its rightful owner."

"That's none of your business," Deeliah responded, and then went back to staring thoughtfully at her blank papers.

Well, that plan didn't work.

"What are you doing?" asked Laehal, trying a different tactic.

"Thinking."

"Why?"

"You're annoying, do you know that?"

"Yeah."

Deeliah sighed. "I'm thinking of what to draw."

"Oo, are you a talented artist?"

"Well, I'm not famous, but I'd say I'm pretty good."

"Hm, let me be the judge of that. Draw me something."

"Whoa, you're pretty demanding."

"Just draw me...a horse."

Deeliah sighed. "One picture of the side of an Albino Pinto, coming right up." She stared at the paper for three seconds, then showed it to Laehal with a grin on her face. "Done."

"No, draw a horse. A real one."

Deeliah rolled her eyes, then put the paper back on her desk. After a few minutes, she turned to Laehal. "Do you have a pencil?"