Chapter 259: Faye’s Detention Partner
Faye’s POV
Detention was something I knew was my destiny until I graduated from high school. I didn’t have a say in that. It felt like it was in my blood.
Back in Redwood, I had detention almost every single day. My friends and I loved breaking school rules. We were pranksters, mostly targeting teachers, and whenever we got caught, it was detention and community service. We would spend hours plotting how to glue a teacher’s coffee mug to their desk or swap out the markers with white whiteboard markers, laughing until our stomachs hurt even when the principal caught us red-handed.
Obviously, my brother wasn’t always aware. When they needed to call a guardian, Guru was the one they called. He would show up at the main office with a tired sigh, shaking his head at us before dragging us out to do our punishment. He would make us do community service, helping people around town, doing chores, cleaning houses, arranging things, sweeping floors, or clearing snow from their porches. We would spend entire Saturday mornings shoveling heavy banks of snow or wiping down dusty shelves for the elderly folks down the street, our fingers freezing inside our knit gloves.
Even though we knew the punishment, we always continued our mischief. The lecture never stuck, and by Monday morning, we were already planning the next big trick to pull in the cafeteria.
But here in Oakland, I was the only one who happened to be in detention, so it was boring.
And to make it worse, I had company.
Beamer Frost.
My girlfriend’s best friend and the school’s so-called president. She was sitting three desks away from me, her now long wolf cut hair falling forward over her forehead as she stared down at her book.
"I just can’t help but ask why you happen to be in detention... because you’re the president," I said. I leaned over my desk, propping my chin up on my hand as I broke the heavy silence of the room.
"Gave a douchebag a beating," she replied. She didn’t even look up from her notebook, her pen continuing its quick scratching across the lined page without a single pause.
She was busy doing her assignments while I was forced to read a textbook. The thick history book was sitting open in front of me, its tiny print blurring together into a giant wall of meaningless text.
I needed conversation because I was bored, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Princess and the pups all alone at home. My mind kept drifting back to the clubhouse, wondering if Ronny was crying or if Donny was finally awake from her afternoon nap.
Princess made an effort every morning to care for them, and I was supposed to take care of the pups in the afternoon taking them to my work while Princess worked. But now I had two weeks of strict study sessions and detention. I felt a heavy wave of guilt sinking into my chest, knowing I was stuck in this stupid room while my girlfriend had to manage four energetic Alpha pups all on her own.
"Why did you beat the douchebag?" I asked. I tapped the eraser of my pencil against my knee, trying to get her to open up.
"Why are you asking? We’re not friends," she said. Her voice was sharp and flat, a clear warning line drawn right between our desks.
Even with her altered memories, she was still the same. That stubborn, cold attitude was exactly how she used to treat people before, her eyes giving me that familiar look that told me to back off completely.
"Well, we’re the only ones in here, and that teacher happens to be asleep. Why don’t we have a discussion?" I said. I pointed a finger toward the front desk, where the monitor had her head tilted back, her mouth slightly open as a soft snore escaped her lips.
"Can you just stop talking? I need to focus on my work, and I’m sure you have assignments too since we happen to be in the same classroom. Maybe you should focus on that instead of disturbing me," she said. She snapped her notebook shut, giving me a hard glare before opening another thick folder from her bag.
I turned back to my textbook and tried to read. I let out a frustrated breath, forcing my eyes to track the words on the page. Then I brought out my notes and started working on my assignment. I scribbled down a few sentences, but the math formulas looked completely backwards to my tired brain.
A few minutes later, I dragged my chair closer to hers.
"What are you doing?" she asked. She flinched slightly at the sudden movement, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.
"We’re in the same classroom, so let’s teach each other, President," I said, pushing my desk beside hers. I jammed the edge of my table right up against hers, refusing to let her shut me out.
Seeing that I wasn’t going to leave her alone, Beam had no choice but to help me with my assignment. She let out a long, dramatic sigh, rubbing her temples before pulling my messy notebook toward her side of the desk.
She tried her best to make me understand, and whenever I wrote something wrong, she corrected me. Her fingers would tap against the paper, pointing out the exact spot where my math dropped a number, her explanations surprisingly simple and easy to track.
Not gonna lie he was actually a good teacher.
I understood her way of explaining things. Instead of throwing a bunch of big academic words at me like the teachers did, she kept it real and direct, breaking down the difficult steps until they finally clicked in my head.
After we finished our assignments, she noticed that I was struggling to study. I was busy cramming words one by one. I was holding my head in my hands, repeating a biology term over and over under my breath like a chant, my brain completely refusing to hold onto the meaning.
She took the textbook from me, sat in front of me like a homeroom teacher, and started reading. She pulled her chair around so she was facing me directly, her fingers turning the pages with a quick, decisive snap.
Then she stopped and turned the topic into a story. She began explaining the cell structures as if they were different pack members defending a territory, using simple analogies that actually made sense to my wolf instincts. After that, she asked me questions about what I had learned.
Whenever my answers were weak or I looked confused, she would start over again, making sure I understood before moving on to the next topic. She didn’t get angry or lose her patience; she just rephrased the sentence, keeping her eyes locked onto mine until she saw the light of understanding hit my face.
Before long, we were both enjoying our company, her as the teacher and me as the student. A small smile actually managed to break through her usual scowl, and I found myself laughing along as we ran through the study flashcards she quickly made out of scrap paper.
Then the principal walked in. The door swung open with a sudden, sharp thud that made both of our hearts skip a beat.
We immediately returned to our seats. We scrambled back, dragging our chairs into our original positions and looking down at our desks as the cold aura of the principal filled the room.
The principal fired the teacher who had been sleeping instead of monitoring us. Dr. Silviana Kings stood right in front of the teacher’s desk, her voice a sharp, freezing whisper that woke the poor woman up instantly.
The teacher insisted she had never slept on duty before and didn’t know why she had dozed off, but the principal didn’t listen. She gathered the teacher’s personal items with a single, sweeping motion, her face completely expressionless.
She simply dismissed her. The teacher hurried out into the hallway, her face bright red with embarrassment as the door clicked shut behind her.
Then she turned to us....
"Now I will be the one monitoring this detention class. And Ms. Frost, since you happen to be the school president, breaking the rules by beating up a student instead of reporting the matter to the school authorities, detention will not be the only punishment you receive." Dr. Silviana said. She turned her eyes toward Beam, her fingers adjusting the frames of her glasses.
"You will guide Ms. Grande in her academics for two weeks until her exams are over. Which means you will be leaving this school premises at 8 p.m. every day."
And with that, not only did Beam become my tutor, but the principal also began closely monitoring our every move.
Wow....
