The Good Kid in Detention

I waved goodbye to June and Marcus as they turned the corner.

"Thanks for picking up Alia," I said, genuinely.

Marcus gave me a salute. June blew a kiss that hit me right between my chest.

"I'll text you if she tries to overthrow the school," June yelled.

"Or poisons our juice boxes," Marcus added.

I smiled. "She's eight, not evil."

They both raised eyebrows.

"…Okay, she's a little evil."

We laughed. Just for a second.

June adjusted her backpack. "Take care, Ash. And remember….don't fall in love with the walls in there."

I chuckled, "No promises."

We exchanged one last look. And just like that, they turned the corner, leaving me alone.

Then I turned around and walked straight into detention.

Technically, this was my first time in detention.

Freshman year? Not even a late mark. No warnings. No side-eyes.

I was that kid.

The good one. The polite one.

Sophomore year?

Now, I'm Ash Rivera—"the guy who pushed Liam off the roof."

I took a deep breath outside the classroom door, then pushed it open.

The room was cold. The blinds were drawn, and everything had that weird lemon-cleaner smell that reminded me of hospitals.

The door creaked as I stepped inside.

Mrs. Smith sat at the front desk, flipping through a giant stack of ungraded papers. She looked up over the rim of her glasses as the door clicked shut behind me.

Mrs. Smith..Detention supervisor. Queen of laminated policies. And somehow, the only adult in this school who didn't look at me like I was radioactive.

She looked up and smiled when she saw me. "Mr. Rivera. This is your first class with me."

I nodded and bowed my head respectfully. "Hi, Mrs. Smith."

She tilted her head slightly. "You've grown taller.."

She remembered me.

I chuckled nervously.

Mrs. Smith and I had history….the good kind.

Back in ninth grade, I helped her cross the pedestrian road on the first day of school….her arms full of folders, students rushing past like she didn't exist.

She'd remembered ever since.

"You can have your seat," she said gently, pointing to the third row.

I slid into it, trying to ignore the way the chair creaked under me. I'd barely sat down when she spoke again.

"I heard you got into a fight today," she said, brushing a curl of grey hair behind her ear.

I hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Not my proudest moment."

"That's the first time anyone's reported you for anything, Ash." She looked surprised.

I smiled faintly. "Well… guess there's a first time for everything."

She raised an eyebrow, amused. "Let's hope it doesn't become a habit."

Mrs. Smith sighed, then handed me a blank lined paper. "You're to write a three-page essay on why fighting is unacceptable in a school environment. Honest thoughts. Due before your detention ends in two hours."

"Got it," I nodded, already reaching for my own.

She walked back to her desk, humming something soft under her breath.

Then….

She paused. "Usually I make the kids scrape gum from under the desks."

I gave her a wide-eyed stare.

"But you…" she smiled gently, "you're one of the special ones, Ash."

"Thanks," I said, smiling faintly.

Instinctively, I leaned forward and peeked under the desk.

A chorus of eww ran through my head.

Gum. So much gum. Like… generations of chewed-up multicolored secrets living their best afterlife.

"Yup. I'll take the essay, thanks," I muttered to myself. "I'd rather write ten pages than touch that gum graveyard."

Mrs. Smith laughed quietly from her seat.

Then silence.

Only the ticking of the clock. Mrs Smith soft hum.

I stared at the blank page, and for a long second, didn't write anything.

I thought about the rooftop.

Liam.

The blood on my shirt.

The posters.

Dominic's breath against mine.

My mother lying in a hospital bed.

Alia trying to be brave.

And me?

Trying to hold it all together.

I took a deep breath and started to write.