Detention with Her

She had shouted horrible things at me in the hallway just after math class, my head spinning with her grievances and pre-calculus equations. Everyone heard her. Her uppance will come. A couple of the guys I wasn't friends with snickered. I flipped them some righteous bird(meaning my middle finger).

And so we had detention together following the breakup. It was reasonably unbearable. Her list of complaints was like the Declaration of Independence. I didn't think I was bad as that old British guy, George. My name wasn't that dorky. Also, I could swim pretty fast. She said I was immature. That kind of stung, I suppose. I don't know. It's kind of true. The last time I watched Hey! Arnold was this morning. Incidentally, I'm seventeen years old.

Seeing me, her focus shifted from my dejected demeanor, turning inward to justify her actions in the face of her guilt. She didn't notice my intense concentration. She also didn't notice, or probably more accurately she didn't care, that I was unwrapping and eating 3 cubes of Bubbalicious: Strawberry Riptide. She asked, "Are we there yet?" referring to the point where we could be friends again.

I said, Yes.

Then I waited for her to fall asleep and I put gum in her hair.