Detention 11

The night Chris broke up with me I went to bed angry and woke up the next morning furious. I typically don’t remember my dreams in full detail, from beginning to end, but that night I remembered everything: Chris was in all of those dreams, and in every scene I was either killing or seriously beating him up. 

Gray light entered my window, into my room and it felt cold on my face. I woke up, wishing I hadn’t awaken up, wishing I could stay asleep for a very long time. It was early, only six thirty in the morning. I still had an hour and a half before I had to be at school. I could’ve gone back to sleep, but I didn’t want to dream about Chris again, so I chose to stay awake, just staring up at the ceiling. The more I tried to not think about Chris, the more his face kept entering into my body, the more I could smell his scent under my nose, and the more I could feel the touch of his skin against mine. I wished I could’ve erased all memories of him; I wished I could erase all feelings for him.

I just laid in my bed for another half an hour, thinking about not thinking about Chris. Soon it was time for me to get up and start to get ready for school. I wanted to fake sick and just stay in the bed all day. I didn’t want to go to school and see Chris all day. But I chose to get up, shower, and get dressed for two reasons: first, I didn’t want Chris to think that I was staying home crying and being depressed over him - and also because I had to go to detention. When I was ready to go, I saw that my mother was already dressed and ready to go to work. “Good morning,” she said. She was trying to sound nice and supportive, which I appreciated, but really didn’t want to deal with at the moment. 

“Hey,” I muttered.

“Do you want me to drive you to school?” she asked.

That question confused me. “Drive me to school? You haven’t driven me to school since the first day of my freshman year.”

“I have a little bit of extra time before I have to be at work,” my mother said. 

“No, that’s okay,” I said. “Rather take the bus.”

“Are you still upset about last night?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” I answered. I tried to smile, but it didn’t work, so I just stared at her blankly. My mother looked concerned. 

“Are you sure?” she continued to question.

“I’m fine,” I repeated, this time more sharply. I walked toward the front door.
“I hope you have a good day at school,” my mother said before I walked out of the door.

“I’m not counting on it,” was my response. I shut the door behind me. 

* * *
The only reason why I sat in front of Chris in Spanish class was because there was nowhere else to sit. I had forced myself not to make eye contact with him. But I could feel his eyes on me, watching me the whole time; my heart was racing the whole time, and there were times when I wanted to turn around and look at his face - but I refused. I had to refuse. I had to let him know that he was just as unimportant to me as I was to him - or as unimportant as he wanted me to be to him. 

During lunch, I sat under my favorite tree, eating a soggy green apple and a gross tuna fish sandwich. It had been a while since I’d eaten lunch alone - since I’d spent time alone in general. It felt weird. I watched people walking by in groups, talking and laughing about whatever bullshit people talk and laugh about. A part of me felt jealous that I didn’t have a boyfriend - or friends in general who were proud to be seen in public with me, that didn’t hide behind fake exteriors, and who were honest. I looked up and saw Chris walking, not too far away from where I was sitting. Our eyes met and my heart felt like it had stopped. I didn’t take one breath. He kept walking, with his eyes on me and ended up bumping into someone. And then he looked away, walking faster, trying to get away from me as fast as possible. Maybe if he had come over and talked to me - maybe if he had looked at me just a few seconds longer...maybe I wouldn’t have been so angry any longer.

* * *
I reported to Mr. Wilson’s room at three fifteen after my last class ended. Billy Anderson, Scott Howard, and Chris were already there as usual. But there were two other people in that room that I hadn’t expected to see: Jason Coleman and Luke Block. I didn’t really care why Luke was in detention, but I was kinda surprised and concerned as to why Jason was in detention. Jason was probably like the best student in that whole fuckin bullshit school - what had he done to go to detention? I glanced over at Billy Anderson, who sat next to Jason, and I figured that somehow he was responsible for Jason being there. 

Mr. Wilson was sitting behind his desk, and as soon as I stepped through the door, I felt his cold blue eyes on me, piercing through me like glass bullets. I sat in my usual spot, in the front row, almost directly across from Wilson’s desk. I don’t know why I always sat so close to Wilson. It was like I was setting myself up for his bullshit. Mr. Wilson stared at me for a minute or two; he could read the anger in my eyes and I knew it was amusing to him. After a while, he broke his glance from me and looked at the others. 

“Everybody get up,” he said, in his typical aggressive and attractive voice, “We’re goin up to the football field.”

None of us moved, we just looked at Wilson confused. When he saw that we hadn’t followed his orders, his dark blue eyes started to burn with fury. “I said everybody get the fuck up right now! We’re goin to the football field.”

All five of us popped out of our seats very quickly and ran to the door. We followed Mr. Wilson as he led us first to the men’s locker room. I was walking right behind him, watching his nice ass through his slacks. Chris and the others were behind me; I heard Billy whispering something to Chris. I figured whatever he’d said had been about me. I didn’t hear Chris’ response, and I really didn’t care to. 

Luke Block walked up beside me. At first I thought he was Chris, but when I turned and saw that the face didn’t belong to Chris, I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment. “What do you want?” I asked, not really too excited to talk to him.

“Nothin’,” Luke said, flashing one of his great smiles. Luke was definitely a sexy-looking dude, and he seemed to have a chill personality, but I don’t know, I really wasn’t all that attracted to him. He had an awesome body: tall, excellent shaped arms, broad shoulders, a tapered, V-shape waist, and very muscular legs. Actually, the more I looked at him, the more attractive he became to me. 

“What did you get detention for?” I asked.

Luke winked. “I’ll tell you later.”

I suddenly thought of Chris, walking behind me. For a brief second, I’d almost forgotten that he was there. I really didn’t want to, but I turned around to look at him. My heart skipped when I saw him glaring at me with the most angriest, jealous expression on his face. I could tell that he was really annoyed that I was talking to Luke. But then I thought, ‘Well it’s not my fault. If he hadn’t been playin stupid, fuckin mind games and stop bein such a fuckin coward, he could’ve been the one talking to me instead of Luke. I turned back around with a new mission: I was pretend that I was really interested in Luke, just to see how upset Chris would get. 

* * *
We stepped into the locker room, which was dirty and smelled like old, wet socks, musty jockstraps and other male body odors. I went up to my locker and started to take off my lock. Chris stepped up three lockers away from mine and jerked his lock open with one easy pull. He glanced at me quickly - too quickly to be an actual look and then he snatched off his shirt. Though it had only been a couple of days since we last fucked, I missed seeing his naked, muscular chest. I missed licking his nipples and licking the ridges of his abs. I missed that thin trail of curly black hair that led down to his sweaty pubes. 

Chris took off his jeans and now he was wearing the tightest pair of white briefs I’d even seen on him. They looked like underwear he might’ve worn when he was twelve or something. I saw the large bulge in the front pouch of the briefs, and I looked at the sharp, curved line of his ass, wanting to just go over there and squeeze it, like I used to be able to do. Now I had to pretend that Chris’ body didn’t excite me in anyway, even though my dick was already more than half hard now. I had to pretend like I didn’t want to look at Chris at anymore - I had to pretend like I didn’t love him anymore. 

Chris peeled the underwear off and stood naked, his body even more beautiful and muscular than the strongest Greek god. His thick, long, eleven inch dick was more than half-way hard too. He looked at me as he balled his underwear up and threw them into his locker. I wanted to know what he was thinking at that moment when he was looking at me with that cold expression on his face and not saying anything. I figured that he probably wanted to know if I was still attracted to him. And of course I was. The problem was that I didn’t want to be anymore. It was too damaging to my feelings to be in love with someone who refused to be in love with me, even though I knew Chris had deep feelings for me. 

I stripped out of my clothes fast. It only took me a few seconds to get fully naked. My dick was hard, but I pretended like it didn’t mean anything to have a boner in front of my ex-boyfriend. I hated using that word, ‘ex-boyfriend’. It sounded so ugly. From the corner of my eye I was able to see Chris looking at me. I peered over at him and saw that his dick was now rock hard. A part of me just wanted to go over there, go to my knees, and just deep throat him until he busted pint after pint of his cum in mouth. But I couldn’t and I wasn’t going to. I had to keep remembering that I wasn’t the one that broke up with Chris - Chris broke up with me. It wasn’t my fault if he was just now realizing the consequences of his mistake. 

I changed into my jockstrap and put on my running shorts and an old T-shirt that reeked of my armpits. Chris changed into similar clothes, but I could still see his hard dick poking against the fabric of his loose shorts. We looked at each other for about ten seconds, the coldest silence between us, and then I just walked out of the locker room.