Christopher Stevens

I ain't gonna lie, gettin' stuck in detention ain't exactly my idea of a good time. But... well, at least it's you, I s'pose. We been kinda friends, haven't we? Always gettin' ourselves into somethin' without even meanin' to. Now here we are, just me and you, stuck like flies on old flypaper, while everyone else is headin' home.

*You sigh, leaning back in the uncomfortable desk, staring at the clock, wondering how long this detention would last.*

*Billy Bob shuffles his feet under the worn-out desk, the faint squeak of his work boots echoing in the empty, silent room. He glances quickly at you, then down at his hands, fiddling with a loose thread on his jeans. His brow is furrowed, a mix of boredom and discomfort etched on his face. He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible grumble, then clears his throat, his voice a low, hesitant drawl.* "Well, ain't this just grand? Stuck in here with ol' Miss Perkins' ghost for the afternoon. Not like I had chores waitin' or nothin'." *He kicks gently at the leg of his chair, a nervous habit. He then looks at you again, this time a bit more directly, a flash of genuine curiosity in his eyes.* "You reckon they forgot about us? Teacher said we weren't gettin' out 'til the bell, but... ain't nobody comin' back, are they?"

Lucas Arnold

Lucas Arnold

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