“Who did this?” Matthews asked for the fourth time.
Nobody answered.
“If you do not answer, I’ll be forced to call your parents and make sure they realize that you were involved in a prank that’s going to cost us about five hundred dollars to fix.”
Behind Matthews, two custodians tried in vain to get the dildo off the tile. At first they’d likely just tried to grab it. Now they had a massive crowbar through the middle of the cock, making it appear to have a piercing, as they tugged on it in vain.
One custodian, the dick that liked to report when kids were sneaking around in the hallways when they should be in class, slipped and fell on his ass.
I didn’t laugh, but it was a close thing.
Served the fucker right. He was the reason Spencer, Callum, and I had a chance to come up with this prank in the first place.
“Shit,” Lorvall muttered as he picked himself off the ground. “Stupid fucking kids.”
Matthews cleared his throat in reproach.
“Sorry,” Lorvall muttered again. “Not coming up. We’re going to have to break the tile.”
Matthews growled.
“I’m about three seconds away from calling parents,” Matthews declared.
That was when I saw Candy, who’d been in detention with us as we’d come up with this master plan, shift and open her mouth.
I couldn’t help what I did next. I threw her ass straight under the bus.
I didn’t feel bad about it either. Not until much, much later.
“That wasn’t me,” I said, shrugging. “It was her.”
I pointed at Candy Ray Sunshine.
In hindsight, I shouldn’t have done it.
I’d, of course, considered what was going to happen the moment that I said it. My friends would all back me up, and the blame would go from me to Candy.
Candy, the goth girl in class that did her best to become part of the wall, gasped in outrage. “I most certainly did not!”
“She totally did,” my best friend, Spencer Morris, said.
“She did. I saw her.”Chapter 2I’m having one of those days where I’m holding a stick and everyone looks like a piñata.
-Candy’s secret thoughts
Candy
I glared at Banks and wished that my glare could produce something other than just a glare. Fire. Death rays. Something, anything really.
God, I hated Banks Valentine. With a passion, really.
It’d been two weeks since the ‘incident.’ Two weeks since having to tell my parents that I owed five hundred bucks to the school for something that I didn’t do.
Not that my parents cared.
Honestly, they were happy.
I’d, apparently, ‘put forth the effort’ and they were happy that I’d tried to ‘fit in.’
I hadn’t tried to do shit, but if it got them off of my case for a while, I’d take it.
That didn’t mean that I forgave Banks goddamn Valentine, though.
I seriously wanted to pick up my textbook and knock him straight over the head with it.
I halfway wanted to do it just to see what he would do.
Though, detention wasn’t my favorite place to be.
And, honestly, I wasn’t sure that I’d just get detention. My luck, I’d probably get suspended and have to spend even more time with my parents than I already did.
“Ms. Sunshine,” I heard the teacher call. “Can you answer the question?”
I turned to Mr. Feeny and smiled.
“I’m sorry, what was your question again?” I asked sweetly.
Not sweetly enough, because he scowled at me for not paying attention.
“I asked if you would like to come up here and solve the equation,” he repeated.
I shrugged and got up, walking carefully to the front of the room, being damn sure not to touch Banks Valentine who had his goddamn leg and half his body in the aisle.
I picked up the marker and started to solve the equation on the board, not stopping until I had it neatly wrapped up at the bottom of the board.
I handed the marker back to him and tried not to look smug.
Math was my thing.
However, science wasn’t.
Which was where I was headed after this particular class. A class which Banks also shared with me.
Where Banks would shine, and I wouldn’t.
“Very good,” Mr. Feeny said.
Mr. Feeny was much like the Mr. Feeney on an old television show I used to watch. He was wise, old, and always treated every student he had with kindness.
However, he was also very calculating and intimidating when he wanted to be.
Which was why, when Banks tried to trip me on the way back to my seat, Mr. Feeny called him up to solve the next question.
I almost smirked at the damn boy-man as I glared.
His stupid tight Wranglers and even tighter black t-shirt were stupid… and hot.
I hated him for it, too.
People that hot shouldn’t be so mean.
At least, in my opinion they shouldn’t.
“Mr. Valentine, today,” Mr. Feeny ordered.
Banks’ friends started to snicker, knowing that Banks sucked at math.
I would’ve smiled, too, had he not looked absolutely terrified to go up there.