4: DETENTION

MIRANDA'S POV

I HATE NIGEL VANDERWOLF. “I hate him! I hate him! I. Freaking. Hate. Him!" I shrieked in frustration. There was no time for me to make it back home so I could change into some dry clothes. I had a calculus test that I could not be late for. I needed to maintain my 4.4 GPA. I suppose I just had to show up at school looking like a scrawny wet cat. I was drenched from head to toe, even my book bag was wet and my boots made squishy sounds whenever I made a step. I told myself that no one would notice me, but who was I kidding? As soon as I stepped on the campus ground all eyes were on me.

“Did she fucking swim here?” An emo girl muttered to her friend. They chortled, generating more indecent remarks about me. I felt ashamed and ridiculous. At least at my last school, I was usually invisible. Here, I was like a zoo animal on display.

“Who dressed her, her grandma?” A muscular fellow with jetblack hair laughed. “Go back to the 1950s, nerd.” I held my head down when he said that. I wasn’t looking where I was going so my frame collided with another burly guy, and I stumbled backward, my legs parted showing everyone my privates when I struck the ground. I banged my head hard. My vision grew hazy and I checked my skull with my hand to see if I was bleeding. I blew out a breath when I noticed I wasn't hurt. The burly guy laughed as he walked away.

“Move outta my way, geek.” A boy with a motorcycle helmet grunted before stepping over my sprawled body.

“Are those granny panties?” Someone asked, and instantly a chorus of cackles could be heard all around me. This was just not my day, month, or year. These students were ruthless bullies. They made the bully at my previous school seemed like a saint. This past year had been torture. Everyday I dreaded coming to this place. I'd been verbally, emotionally and now physically abused. Plus everytime I tried to tell my parents about it, they thought I was making excuses because I wanted to move back to California. Just one more year, I told myself. Just one more year and I would rid myself of this dump of a town.

I hastened to the office to see if I could find something to wear from lost and found. The slender woman looked at me with scorn when I entered the room.

“Good morning, do you think I could get a change of outfit from the lost and found pile?” I glanced at the name on her desk: Hailey Furball. Such a unique surname.

The woman squinted at me, then she replied. “Yeah, sure, because that outfit ain't doing nothing for your figure.” I skimmed down at my outfit. I thought I looked well put together, plus ruffles were making a comeback. Miss Furball got up from her armchair and handed me a big box. “Here, see if you can find something to your liking in this." She gave me another once-over. “I highly doubt it, though.”

“Thank you, Miss Furball,” I acknowledged before walking to the girls’ changing room with the box in my hands. I was relieved that most of the students were still out on the lawn enjoying themselves before the first bell rang.

I locked the door of the changing room behind me then I dug into the pile of garments, which mostly consisted of male clothes. I found a red sweater and a black joggers pants. I pulled them on and my body was swallowed up by how huge they were.

I knew I looked like a little boy plus my nose didn't appreciate the odd stench that came with the outfit. It reeked of pine trees and wet dog. Anyway, I returned the box to Miss Furball and headed for my locker. My feet hit the brakes when I saw nasty Nigel and Velma Silver at my locker. Velma leaned in to kiss him, and he used his hand to stop her mouth from touching his.

“Woah, woah! Easy there, tiger. People are looking," he let out while he checked the area to make sure no one was watching them.

“Come on, no one's looking, just one kiss," she begged.

“OK, just a small one.” He gripped a chunk of her ass while he sucked on her face. I gagged when I heard them moaning too loudly for individuals not performing the deed. I cleared my throat, and he pulled away from her before he looked at me. Velma followed his movements and glowered when her views found me.

“Nice sweater," she commented, grinning like a clown.

“Thank you.” I rolled my eyes. Out of everyone at this school, Velma had been the hardest on me and I didn't know why.

“I was being sarcastic,” she flipped her perfect black hair.

“OK,” I rolled my eyes.

She continued staring at me. “Why are you still standing here, loser?”

“I need to get inside my locker," I pointed behind them.

“Oh, my bad," Nigel sneered. “And sorry about this morning. That puddle just seemed to appear out of nowhere."

I was just so tired of everybody insulting me, I sort of snapped. “It's OK, no need to apologize.”

“See Velma, I told you she wasn't all that bad for a freak," Nigel laughed. I walked to my locker with both of them standing on either sides.

“She's still a sore loser, though," Velma joined in on the laughter.

“Go ahead, and enjoy it while it lasts," I told them.

“What are you talking about?” He asked.

“This," I gestured to the school. “I may be a geek who is at the bottom of the food chain in this jungle known as high school. But this, this is as good as it gets for bullies like you, Nigel. You are the most popular guy in school with the hottest cheerleader on your arm —"

“Head cheerleader," Velma corrected, and I ignored her. But Nigel seemed to have been listening to me keenly.

“Life is great for you right now. You're so busy bullying geeks and nerds like me you forget what high school is about. So while I have an almost perfect GPA, your test scores are crap, am I correct?" I smirked.

“What's your point?” He pressed me to continue.

“My point is after high school is over, we the nerds will probably go on to become successful and famous and dumb jocks like you will have a beer belly and a bald spot before you hit your 30s. I'm going to even throw in a couple of child support cases, since your daddy's money will be like bait to the type of women you go for. Easy!" I looked over to Velma when I said the last part. I saw the fire in her eyes and I got scared.

“Watch it! You know nothing about me," Nigel growled. I locked eyes with him and he was pissed. He stalked up to me and I backed up against the wall. A gasp left my lips when I felt him grab my upper arm, squeezing it roughly. My eyes welled with tears. “Remember whose house you're staying at next time you feel like talking to me like that." His pupils were swirling like molten caramel. “You don't want to fuck with me!” He shoved me hard against the locker, rattling the metal.

“Nigel, your eyes!" Velma whooped. Nigel closed his eyes and turned his head away from me. “Let's get outta here.”

Velma took him by the arm and led him away. I released the breath I was holding. I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. I rested my forehead against the locker door and sobbed. What the hell just happened?

*******

The calculus test was a breeze. I knew I scored at least an A. My next class was History, my favourite subject next to English Lit. Our teacher Mrs. King was the nicest. They offered her a job here just like my mother, so she moved from Florida to teach at this stupid school. I wondered where they got the money to be bribing educators to leave civilized places to come to this backwood place.

“Good morning, Miss Whitmore," Mrs. King greeted me. “Take a seat. Class is about to begin." I was one of the last students to enter the classroom, so most of the seats were already taken. “Hurry, Miss Whitmore."

“Sorry, Mrs. King, I just need to find an empty seat.”

“How about that one right there," she pointed all the way to the back. My tummy sank when I saw who was sitting next to the seat Mrs. King pointed at. “You can take that vacant seat beside Mr. Vanderwolf.”

I clutched my backpack and slowly made my course down the aisle. My heart sped up, remembering our encounter this morning. Valko stretched his foot out and my feet caught his ankle, and I tripped then went sailing to the ground. My books and phone spilled over the floor. The class erupted in laughter.

“What a clumsy little thing,” Valko mumbled.

“Mr. Silver, go to the principal's office now," Mrs. King barked.

“Oh man!” Valko whined as he threw his bag over his shoulder and exited the classroom.

“Miss Whitmore," Mrs. King ran over to me. “Are you OK?”

“Yes, I'm fine, Mrs. King,” I said even though My limbs were burning.

“Are you sure? I can give you a pass to see the nurse."

“Really, I'm fine," I convinced her. She helped me up and steered me to my seat.

When I was seated, Nigel handed me my books and cellphone. “Here you go," he beamed. “I hope you didn't hurt yourself.”

“Thank you," I smiled back. He could be nice when he wanted to. I settled in my seat and focused on the lesson.

Suddenly, a message sounded on my phone. It was strange, I thought I turned my phone on mute.

“Whose phone is that?” Mrs. King asked.

“Sorry. I'll put it on silent,” I gulped.

I plucked my phone from my pocket and another message came in. It was from an unknown number.

“Miss Whitmore. Turn that off right now."

“OK, Mrs. King.” Another message came in, so I clicked it open. It was some kind of internet link. I pressed on it and my heart almost exploded.

“OH BABY YES! HARDER BABY!" A white man appeared on the screen wearing nothing but a brown leather belt and a cowboy hat. “RIDE THIS COWBOY, YOU DIRTY BITCH!”

“Miss Whitmore!” Mrs. King yelled.

“I'm sorry. I don't know how this happened," I tried to explain while my fingers moved furiously trying to shut down the page. The students were having a field day with this.

“CHOKE ME WITH THAT BIG COCK OF YOURS," The girl with the fake boobs commanded as she went on her knees, sticking her tongue out.

“I didn't know you were into this kinky shit, Prissy Pants,” Nigel whispered. I looked at him and saw his phone in his hands. He must have somehow got my number when he picked up my phone earlier. This only made me regret not having a passcode to open my phone.

“That's it, Miss Whitmore. See you in detention after school."

“But," I whined, finally closing the page.

“No buts, Miss Whitmore,” Mrs. King yelled.

“This is his fault," I ratted out Nigel. In my seventeen years of existing on this earth, I had never gotten in trouble at school before.

“So it is my fault you're a porn addict," he snorted.

“This is not funny!”

“But it is," he lamented. “So, do you imagine you are the one riding that cowboy?”

The class howled.

“You are such an A-hole," I grimaced.

“Stop it, both of you," Mrs. King warned.

“And it's asshole, you pencil neck freak. You can't even swear properly."

“That's it, Mr. Vanderwolf. I'll see you in detention, too," Mrs. King declared. “And one more peep out of you two, and you'll be banned from coming on the school field trip this Thursday.”

I kept my mouth shut and my head down for the rest of the class.