Adler | The Aces of St.Sinclair BOOK 1.

Detained | A TWENTY EIGHT

I glanced to the swarm migrating in route to the lunch hall and other sites before I began walking in the opposite direction, over to the upper east floor. I halted at the door by the very end which existence served generally to pack up dust on the rare days it wasn't consuming the time of the unfortunate souls summoned there. Today, I had become one of them.

All prepping for lunch had gone down the toilet when Mr. Hill suddenly popped up on my way. I swore, he had never detailed the unreasonable detention sentence was to be served at break but he was being so insufferably pushy and accusing of me trying to "dodge it" that I had to bite down on my tongue to prevent the scowl this time.

I huffed as I sat down on a vacant seat, furthest apart from the rest of the 'punished' kids. I really would've thought with the caliber and class of St. Sinclair they would've had a more productive detention system than sticking a bunch of students in an out of use chamber with nothing to read or do. Also, I was sure one thing you certainly shouldn't have been eligible to do was talk. Hence, the definition of isolation but the majority were merrily chatting away, more than comfy.

Before I could even fathom how I was going to endure the next thirty minutes, I heard the screeching of metal against the floor scarcely nearby. I peered to blue eyes and a lazy smile.

"Got to say, this is a surprise. And I'm not usually surprised."

I slowly blinked at Alger Hess who had brought it upon himself to occupy the seat beside me. When it should've been obvious from the gap I made between the rest indicating I didn't want to mingle.

No, it was probably exactly that reason he picked it. Call it a crude opinion, but Hess appeared to me like the kind of kid who would do the opposite of what he was told, purely for kicks and giggles.

He was perceptive on what fields to play on a person, judging from the way his eyes regarded me with unrestrained attention and another being he was a 'sort of' friend of Garren. There was a pattern with that boy surrounding himself with observant people.

"What are you in here for?" He asked.

I turned my head to the window that could use some of Callahan's articulate dusting.

"Oh come on, Buns." I felt uneasy with the tone in his voice that was oddly intimate. It wasn't in a direct flirty way like Will's but it made me feel things similar to it that my nan would scold me for wanting to feel.

"I'm curious," he insisted. "It's not everyday a model student is caught in detention. Oh, wait let me guess; you got one mark less than a hundred on an essay and went ballistic on the teacher? Accused of cheating on a test? Too many late notices? Got caught giving a hand job in the dark room because you forgot to lock the door?"

I didn't budge.

"Just tell me, Buns or I'm going to keep guessing and I have a lot of time to keep guessing."

I frowned on that because it was true. The supposed detention monitor, Mr. Driscoll had plugged in headphones to his tablet right after listing who was present. I was beginning to feel this really was a punishment now.

"If you back off, I'll tell you." I conditioned.

Thankfully, Hess obliged and refrained from trying to mesh our bodies like clay. "This good enough?"

"Straighten your tie," I added.

Hess rolled his eyes but nevertheless adjusted his striped tie to fit snuggly by his collar. "Now what did you do?"

"Nothing."

His brows furrowed. "Nothing? What's that supposed to mean? How do you get detention for nothing?"