DETENTION

After cursing my ill fate in the mirror, I slumped into the kitchen, where my mom had left a bowl of lukewarm oatmeal with a splash of milk. I gulped it down, still grumbling about my miserable life. As I headed out the door, I regretted not flushing Tommy, my dad's pesky goldfish, down the toilet. Maybe then my day would have been slightly more exciting.

My school was a brisk 30-minute walk away, and I arrived just as the bell rang. Fiona's house was only a few blocks away, but her dad, the renowned cosmetic surgeon, insisted on dropping her off in his sleek limousine every day. I had the misfortune of falling asleep in that luxurious vehicle once, and I still cringe at the memory. It's hard to believe Fiona and I were once equals, struggling to make ends meet. But then her dad's career skyrocketed, and her mom launched her own lucrative brand. They must have known they'd strike gold, judging by the extravagant name they gave her - 'FIONA'.

As I trudged through the school gates, I spotted Mike and hastened to catch up with him. We exchanged a quick hello before dashing to our locker and then to class. The girls in the hallway snickered as I passed by, their giggles following me like a shadow. I just laughed along with them, resigned to the fact that my life was already a laughingstock.

The hallways were a blur of lockers, classrooms, and chattering students, but I navigated them with a practiced air, my eyes fixed on the floor to avoid eye contact with anyone who might be staring at my tattered uniform. Little did they know, I was secretly counting down the minutes until lunchtime, when I could escape into the sanctuary of my favorite book. 'The butler.'

As we entered the classroom, the English lesson was in full swing. Miss Denise, resplendent in her favorite blue gown that clung to her curvaceous figure, was distributing scripts like a queen dispensing favors. "Kimberly Hart, an A again! Well done, Kimberly!" she exclaimed, her voice dripping with praise. Then, her gaze landed on me, and her tone turned sarcastic. "And you, Chester Luis!" She waved an empty sheet in her pudgy hands, her eyes gleaming with amusement. The class erupted into uncontrollable laughter, and I felt my face burning with embarrassment.

"Silence!" Miss Denise yelled, her voice piercing the din. "Take your seat, Chester!" I trudged to my chair, my feet heavy with shame, and dropped my bag onto the desk with a thud. Ming Lee, the half-Korean heartthrob who always looked like he'd eaten one too many snacks, flashed me a sympathetic glance. I flicked him a look, and he returned it with a subtle smile.

Miss Denise approached me, her expression stern, and handed me the empty sheet. My heart sank as I realized it was my project, or rather, the lack thereof. "I gave you all a week to write about your summer holiday, and YOU submitted an empty sheet?!" She fumed, her face reddening as if she were about to breathe fire. The class snickered, and I felt like crawling under a rock.

All the rich kids had gone to summer camp for two weeks, regaling them with exciting tales to tell. But I had spent my summer stuck at home with my mischievous cousins, Jojo and Momo. They had turned my room into a disaster zone, and I had spent most of my time refereeing their fights and hiding my snacks from their prying hands. What could I have written about? Jojo's talent for scavenging leftovers from restaurants or Momo's snoring habits?

Miss Denise's voice pierced the air, making me wince. "Chester! It's for extra credit, can't you hear me?" She yelled, her tone almost shattering my eardrums. I offered a fake apology, my eyes locking with Lady Sueri, the weirdest but yet attractive girl in class. No one knew her surname or where she came from. Her long gloves and mysterious aura reminded me of Cinderella's stepmother, minus the cartoonish charm. Lady Sueri's tongue darted out, and she flashed me a defiant middle finger, which I met with a deadpan stare.

Miss Denise continued, her voice firm but laced with a hint of annoyance. "It's not about saying sorry, Chester. You have until tomorrow to submit the project, and I'm dead serious. One more mess up, and you'll have to take it up next semester. And let me warn you, I'm not accepting anything less than two thousand words." Her lips pursed, her circular face a picture of determination.

The class erupted into snickers, and someone quipped, "He could write about his tiny house!" Another voice chimed in, "Or how his dad killed his grandmother!" I winced at the dark humor, feeling a surge of embarrassment and shame. Even I couldn't appreciate that level of sarcasm.

Miss Denise's gaze swept the room, her eyes flashing with annoyance. "Who said that?! Silence, everyone! So, Chester, two thousand words, okay?" She bent her head slightly, her expression a mix of expectation and warning.

Yeah, I could write a thousand words about how ugly your fat face is." I lashed out, regretting the very moment it came out of my mouth.

"What did you just say?!" She yelled and the whole class burst into laughter.

Wait...did I actually say that outloud? I knew I did but what?? I honestly be saying things in my head without knowing I'm actually saying it outloud. Now I'm in for some real trouble.

"I'm so sorry ma'am." I gave another obviously fake apology. "Your fat face is beautiful!"

She gasped.

"Uhh...I mean you don't have a fat face...I'm..."

"CHESTER! DETENTION!! NOW!!!"

I dragged my ridiculously heavy legs out of the classroom, my backpack weighing me down like a boulder. I mean, who needs all these books anyway?! I tossed my bag onto my shoulder with a theatrical sigh, like the weight of the world was crushing me. As I walked out, I gave the other kids a solid ignore, their whispers and giggles barely even registering on my radar. Miss Denise looked all hurt and stuff, but like, I didn't even care. I mean, detention? Please. That's like, my second home.

I strolled down the hallway, my feet moving on autopilot while my brain was already in detention mode. The lockers and classrooms blurred together in a sea of meh, the posters on the walls just a bunch of colorful noise. I was a man on a mission, destined for the thrill-ride that was detention.

And then, I entered the sacred halls of Detention Land. The room was, like, the most depressing place on earth. Fluorescent lights humming overhead, casting an eerie glow on the assembled misfits. I dropped into my usual seat, surrounded by my fellow detention rockstars, and let out a dramatic sigh. "I'm soooo done with life," I declared to no one in particular, just to set the mood. Bring on the boredom, bring on the tedium. I was ready to endure it all.

I flicked a glance at Jessy Jones, the self-proclaimed king of RED'S FIELD, his wealth and entitlement oozing from every pore. He glared back at me with his cold, dead eyes, but I met his gaze with a defiant smirk, unfazed by his intimidation tactics. For some reason, his bullying antics never seemed to faze me, and I was pretty sure he sensed it. He snorted through his oversized nostrils, his tongue darting in and out of his mouth like a snake, before sneering, "What'd you do this time, Luis? Murder the textbooks?" His cohorts erupted into laughter, their snickers and guffaws echoing off the drab detention room walls.

I rolled my eyes and turned away, my messy brown hair falling across my forehead. "I'm not in the mood, Jessy. Quit it." My voice was laced with a nonchalant attitude, but inside, I was seething. The fluorescent lights above hummed in unison with the distant rumble of the school's ancient heating system, casting an eerie glow on our little gathering of misfits. The air was thick with the scent of stale sweat and worn textbooks, the walls adorned with faded chalkboard scribbles and dog-eared posters. We sat in silence, our collective apathy hanging heavy in the air, each of us lost in our own thoughts as we "enjoyed" the beautiful moments in detention.