Detention

Thursday morning crept in with the lazy glow of dawn spilling through the blinds of Kite's room. His alarm blared with a sharp beep, and he groaned into his pillow, slapping the clock until it shut up. The buzz of the previous night still lingered in his head—the sirens, the cops, the rush of the fight—but what stuck more were the posts on Mindsphere. The praise, the hate, the grainy videos with his suit blurred out in blue light, the comments spiraling into arguments.

He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Whatever. People were gonna talk either way.

He pulled on his hoodie and slung his bag over his shoulder, taking a quick glance at his phone. More notifications blinked on the screen: "Pulsar Knight saves hostages downtown!" "Is he a menace or a hero?" "Blackstone's new protector?"

Kite sighed. "Yeah, yeah, talk all you want," he muttered, pocketing his phone and heading downstairs. He grabbed an energy bar off the counter, mumbled a goodbye to his mom, and stepped out into the crisp morning air.

As he locked the door behind him, he nearly collided with Riley—all pink backpack, bright sneakers, and the usual overexcited grin plastered on her face.

"Hey! Morning, Kite!" she chirped, practically bouncing on her toes.

Kite blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Uh...hey. Morning."

She fell into step beside him, her energy radiating like a small sun. "Did you see the new videos of the Pulsar Knight? Like, he's everywhere! Someone even posted a compilation with music over it—oh! And there's this theory going around that he might be, like, government tech or something. Or maybe an alien?"

Kite smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "An alien? Yeah, that sounds about right. Next thing you know, they'll say he's from Mars or something."

Riley giggled. "Maybe! But, like...I think he's kinda cool. I mean, he is kinda reckless, and the cops don't always like him, but he's still helping people, right? Like, if it wasn't for him, that hostage thing downtown would've gone way worse."

Kite gave a small shrug, a lopsided grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Maybe. Guess it depends on how you look at it."

Riley tilted her head, thoughtful, then shot him a grin. "Well, I think he's awesome. Kinda mysterious, too. Like...who is he, you know?" She nudged Kite playfully, eyes sparkling. "You got any guesses?"

Kite's stomach flipped, but he played it cool. "No clue. Maybe it's just some guy who likes dressing up and crashing parties."

Riley laughed, and they kept walking, the morning chatter of Blackstone filling the streets around them.

As they reached the school gates, Riley paused, looking up at him. "Hey...you wanna walk to school together from now on? Y'know...company's nice."

Kite hesitated for a second, then gave a casual nod. "Yeah. Sure. Why not?"

Riley beamed. "Cool. See you after class, then!" With that, she bounded off toward her friends, leaving Kite standing there with a weird warmth in his chest.

He shook it off and made his way toward the benches by the school entrance, where William was waiting, phone in hand and grinning like a kid with a secret.

"Dude. Duuude," William said as soon as Kite sat down, holding up his phone. "You're blowing up again. Seriously, like...trending-level blowing up. People are talking about you on Mindsphere, HoloNet, everywhere. You're the main topic in, like, three different forums."

Kite smirked, leaning back on the bench. "Yeah, I noticed. Guess I'm kind of a big deal."

William snorted. "Kind of? Bro, you're basically a local celebrity now. But, like, you also kinda left a mess last night."

Kite's grin faltered a bit, but he crossed his arms, playing it off. "Hey, I saved the hostages. Not my fault the cops don't know how to say thank you."

William rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Yeah, but some people online think you're just a show-off who's gonna get someone hurt." He paused, thoughtful. "But I've got an idea. What if we spin it? Y'know...make a Pulsar Knight profile. Like, a legit page where people can ask for help. Maybe even a site. That way, you're not just this random mystery dude—people can see you as, like, the neighborhood hero. Kind of like how they see Shockwave."

Kite raised an eyebrow. "Shockwave has a profile?"

William grinned. "Bro, yeah! Shockwave's got a full HoloSpace page, a request form, merch! He's basically a brand. You gotta build your image."

Kite thought for a moment, tapping his foot. "You really think that'll help?"

"Absolutely. And I can help you set it up. We'll even set up, like...a headquarters or something. Where we plan stuff. Y'know, super secret lair vibes."

Kite snorted. "What, like a Batcave?"

William snapped his fingers. "Exactly! And I know the perfect spot. Your basement."

Kite nearly choked. "My basement? Dude, it's a mess. There's, like, old junk, boxes, and...that weird couch my mom refuses to throw out."

William waved him off. "We'll clean it up. This weekend, we're turning that place into Pulsar HQ. You, me, and...well, mostly me, since I'm the brains of this operation."

Kite shook his head, laughing. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't go painting the walls or something."

William grinned. "Deal. Oh, and I'll draft up the site tonight. We'll need a logo too. Maybe, like, a Pulsar Knight symbol. Ooo, I'm thinking neon blue, maybe a knight helmet...I'll sketch it out."

The bell rang, slicing through their conversation, and the crowd around them stirred. Students filtered into the building in a wave of chatter and backpacks.

Kite sighed, getting to his feet. "Alright. Back to pretending I'm just a normal, average, totally boring high schooler."

William smirked. "For now."

Kite smirked back, feeling the buzz of the day settle in. Mindsphere posts still floated in his mind, but for now...he had school to worry about.

——

First Period: Biology

The classroom smelled faintly of antiseptic and the sharp scent of marker ink. Kite slumped into his seat as Mr. Cadler, tall, grey-bearded, and somehow always a little amused, strolled into the room with his usual unbothered air.

"Morning, team," Cadler drawled. "Hope you're all ready for the pop quiz I definitely didn't tell you about."

Groans echoed across the room, but Mina, ever the overachiever, sat upright with a small, knowing smile.

"By the way," Cadler added, pausing by Kite and Mina's desk, "you two still good for the internship at Blackwood BioLabs this Saturday?"

"Yup," Kite said, giving a lazy thumbs up.

Mina nodded, her dark hair swinging slightly.

"Of course, Mr. Cadler."

"Good," Cadler said with a rare approving smile. "They're expecting you."

The quiz wasn't exactly fun, but it wasn't rocket science either. Still, when Cadler announced the scores, Kite had to admit, he was a little annoyed that Mina beat him by a point.

"Top marks, Mina—ninety-five. Second, Kite—ninety-four. The rest of you...well..." His eyes landed on Emilia Voss, who sat slumped in her seat, scrolling through her phone like none of this mattered.

"Emilia," Cadler said, tone turning sharp. "That's the third quiz in a row you've tanked. If you don't pull up your socks, you're going to flunk this class. And I know you're better than this."

Emilia just rolled her eyes.

"Whatever."

Cadler sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Kite, you're going to tutor her. Help her catch up."

Kite blinked, surprised.

"Wait, me?"

"Yes, you," Cadler said firmly. "Think of it as...part of your civic duty."

Kite shot a glance at Emilia, who just smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder like this was the most annoying thing ever.

Great.

---

Second Period: English

Ava was already in her seat when Kite slid into his, her notebook open and pen tapping thoughtfully.

"Hey," Kite greeted, pulling out his own notebook.

"Hey," she replied, her voice light. "So...I've been working on something."

Kite raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? A story?"

Ava nodded, smiling a little.

"Yeah...I've been thinking about this idea. A story about a girl who works at a small-town library and starts finding letters hidden in old books—like, mysterious, poetic letters. And she starts trying to figure out who's leaving them, and it turns into this...slow-burn mystery, but also kind of about her figuring out what she wants to do with her life. I dunno. It's still rough."

Kite grinned.

"That's kinda cool, actually. Like...slice-of-life meets mystery vibes?"

"Exactly!" Ava beamed.

Before they could dive deeper, the bell rang, cutting them off.

---

Third Period: Contemporary Civics

Kite slumped into his seat, already regretting every decision that led him to take this class.

Julian plopped down beside him with a groan.

"Remind me why we're in this class again?"

"Because your dad wants you to run ValeCorp someday, and apparently knowing about government systems is important for future billionaires."

Julian scowled, kicking Kite's foot under the desk.

"Shut up."

Kite grinned, flipping a pencil between his fingers.

The class dragged on in a blur of lectures about civic duties and public policy, and by the time the bell rang for lunch, Kite felt like his brain had turned to static.

---

The cafeteria was buzzing with the usual noise—trays clattering, conversations overlapping. As Kite walked in with Julian and Ava by his side they saw something eye-catching. William was there shouting at Mason who was glaring at him.

"How about you just keep your hands to yourself?!"

Mason scoffed and turned back to the boy he had pinned against the wall, "Dude, this has nothing to do with you, so back off!" He said, talking over his shoulder.

William chuckled and palmed his forehead, "And what if I don't wanna? I'm sick and tired of you just pushing people around!"

Mason turned around and shoved him. "You don't know me and you don't know what happened here!"

Kite and Julian tensed up, looking at each other with that look, contemplating whether they should step in or not.

Just then a teacher's voice rang out.

Hey! You two—office. Now."

William and Mason both froze, scowling at each other as they grabbed their bags and stalked off, the tension still buzzing in the air.

William trudged down the hallway, backpack slung low, feeling the weight of the day tug at his shoulders. Beside him, Mason stalked like a storm cloud, fists stuffed into the pockets of his letterman jacket. His buzz cut bristled under the fluorescent lights, and his face was set in a tight scowl that could curdle milk.

The hallway buzzed with whispers, students darting glances their way like they were some tragic duo heading for the gallows. The sound of their sneakers against the waxed floor echoed in the quiet tension between them.

William risked a glance at Mason. "Dude… you good?" he asked, voice low, careful.

Mason's jaw tightened. He wasn't good. The guy radiated frustration like a frayed wire sparking in a storm. "What do you think?" he muttered, eyes locked on the floor, like if he stared hard enough, it'd split open and swallow him whole.

William sighed, pushing his hair out of his face. "Look, man… I didn't mean for it to get like that. You shoved that kid, and I just—" He threw up his hands. "You know how it goes."

Mason whipped his head around, his buzz cut bristling like a war flag. "Yeah, I know how it goes. I get blamed, you get the golden boy treatment. Story of my life." His voice was low, bitter, carrying the weight of a hundred silent frustrations.

"You don't know what it's like, Will. Coach breathing down my neck, teachers looking at me like I'm some screw-up. And now, what? I'm the villain 'cause I shoved a kid who was running his mouth?"

William held up his hands, voice steady. "Hey, man, I'm not the enemy here."

Mason scoffed. "Could've fooled me."

They reached the office door, the fluorescent lights above flickering like they were as fed up with this school as Mason was. William hesitated, hand on the doorknob, turning to Mason with a rare flicker of sincerity behind his usual laid-back grin.

"Look, Mason… I get it. Kinda. You feel like everyone's out to get you. But maybe if you didn't go full linebacker on people in the hallway, it wouldn't—"

"Yeah?" Mason cut him off, leaning in slightly. His voice was low, dangerous, but not quite threatening—more like a wounded animal baring its teeth. "Maybe if you didn't talk so much, you'd understand something."

The office door opened with a mechanical click, the secretary peeking out. "You two—inside."

William exhaled slowly, stepping inside with Mason trailing close behind, both of them bracing for whatever came next.

The office was a sterile little room that smelled faintly of dry-erase markers and a decades-old carpet. The walls were lined with motivational posters—"Respect: It Starts With You!" and "Be the Change You Want to See in the World"—the kind of stuff that made William roll his eyes on reflex.

Principal Hartley sat behind her desk, a woman in her mid-fifties with sharp eyes, a tight bun, and a permanent frown etched into her face. She looked up over her glasses like they were both gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

"Well, well," she began, her voice dry and clipped. "William Fletcher. Mason Graves. Care to explain why the two of you decided to turn the hallway into a wrestling ring today?"

William opened his mouth, but Mason beat him to it.

"Ma'am, it wasn't even—"

Hartley raised a finger, silencing him. "Let me guess—you were 'defending your honor' or 'teaching someone a lesson.'" She made air quotes like they were going out of style. "Regardless of your intentions, this behavior is disruptive and unacceptable."

William leaned back in his chair, biting back a groan. Mason slumped beside him, arms crossed tight, practically vibrating with frustration.

Hartley continued, flipping through a thin folder like it held the secrets of the universe. "Frankly, I'm disappointed. William, you're usually a model student, but this…" She shook her head, voice full of that I-expected-better-from-you condescension that made William's skin crawl. "And Mason—well, this kind of behavior isn't new for you, is it?"

Mason's jaw tensed so hard it looked like it might crack. William shot him a side glance, silently urging him not to blow up.

Hartley tapped her pen on the desk, the sound sharp and grating. "Here's what's going to happen. You'll both serve detention this Friday after school. You'll write a one-page reflection on the importance of conflict resolution, and I expect you to deliver a verbal apology to the student involved." She nodded, as if that settled the matter. "Consider this a learning opportunity."

William blinked. A learning opportunity? What were they, five?

"Yes, ma'am," he muttered, voice flat. Mason didn't even bother responding—just gave a tight nod, fists still clenched.

"Good. Dismissed."

They stood, the scrape of their chairs echoing in the quiet room. As they shuffled out, William barely held back a sigh until they were clear of the office door. Then it all came out in one long, dramatic exhale.

"That… was so dumb," Mason muttered under his breath, the frustration still crackling in his voice.

William nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Right? We barely did anything. Just argued a little, and suddenly we're the bad guys."

Mason scoffed, shaking his head. "Typical."

They walked in silence for a beat, the tension slowly uncoiling like a taut wire finally cut loose. Mason's shoulders relaxed a fraction, his usual stormy expression softening into something almost… normal.

William nudged him with an elbow, a half-grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Hey, uh… I'm sorry for earlier. For, you know, mouthing off. Didn't mean to make it worse."

Mason let out a breath, half a chuckle and half a sigh. "Yeah… whatever, man. You talk too much, but… it wasn't all on you."

William blinked, surprised. "Is that… Mason Graves accepting my apology? Wow. Someone mark the date."

"Shut up," Mason grumbled, but there was no bite to it this time.