I don't really care that I ended up here. After what that pathetic girl did, she deserved a slap and more.
The afternoon sun filtered through the classroom windows, casting long shadows across the desks. The room was hot and stuffy, with a faint smell of chalk dust lingering in the air. As I glanced around, I noticed a guy staring at me. He had striking grey eyes and light brown hair that caught the light just right. He smiled at me, but I didn't smile back. What's the point? I'm not here to make friends. As I sit next to him, since no other seats are available, he keeps smiling at me. "It's Alex," he says, extending a hand toward me. Now that I see him up close, I notice the dark circles under his eyes. Is he the type who stays up all night gaming?
The classroom buzzes with the energy of restless students. Some kids are chitchatting in small groups, their laughter filling the air, while others are playfully hitting each other, their antics bordering on rowdy. The atmosphere is a mix of defiance and boredom, with everyone trying to find a way to pass the time in this unwelcome summer detention.
The door creaks open, and the teacher strides in, immediately commanding attention. She has long black hair cascading down her back and piercing black eyes that seem to see right through you. Her presence silences the room as she stands at the front, setting her materials on the desk with a sense of purpose.
"Alright, everyone," she begins, her voice firm yet oddly calm. "For the duration of this detention, you will write an apology letter every day. This exercise is meant to reflect on your actions and understand the impact of your behavior."
As she explains the assignment, I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turn to see Alex, who's been subtly trying to get my attention. His smile is persistent, almost infectious. "You didn't tell me your name," he says, his voice soft and friendly amidst the otherwise tense room.
"I'm Ava," I stated firmly. It's not a big deal to share my name, right? He seems like the persistent type who won't let me off easy otherwise. "Ava? Reminds me of avocado," he said. "Why?" I asked. "The green matches your eye color," he answered, still smiling. He seemed nervous, though. Was I intimidating him? As I attempted to refocus on the teacher's lecture, my thoughts drifted back to why I found myself here. I've never been one to lash out at others. In fact, I've never harbored any violent tendencies. But she, Lucy, she crossed a line. I've always held her in high regard, considered her a friend. Yet her words, though subtly cutting, stung me every day. It took me far too long to see through her facade. Lucy, she's the type who craves attention, willing to do anything for it. She showed me a caring side, or so I thought. Now I wonder, was any of it genuine?
I even told my parents about how kind, considerate, polite, and what a good friend she was. I thought maybe I was too sensitive, at fault for being hurt so easily. I was naive. Even now, it hurts. Seven years of friendship, since fourth grade, since we were eleven. I don't understand why she had to do that. We could have been so good together. Everyone praised our friendship. Then, I was interrupted by Alex tapping my shoulder again-.
"Ava, your nose it....is bleeding."