By Lindsey Nguyen, Staff Writer
This was it—the end. I adjusted the bag drooping on my shoulder and opened the hallway doors. The heels of my shoes tapped against the white tile, the clacking bouncing off the walls. My blonde hair was neatly tucked in as a black scarf wrapped around my head and the round sunglasses sliding down my nose mostly tinted the surrounding.
“This isn’t Breakfast at Tiffany’s. It’s detention, Norah, ” a voice groaned. I rolled my eyes before taking off my sunglasses and folding them.
“You know, Donavan, it’s really none of your business how I dress. For all you know, I could have something after this,” I protested.
“It’s a Wednesday night. You have no plans.” I huffed before walking to detention. The whole fiasco probably wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for Donovan King.
The day before had started rough, I was already late for my meeting with Mr. Norenberg, my math teacher, and the power at my house went out. Somehow, I managed to show up half an hour late with my hair dripping wet, a weirdly buttoned shirt, and my contacts floating in my toilet back home.
“I know, I know I’m late, but I really need to talk to you about my grade, Sir,” I panted.
“First, you made me wake up at an ungodly hour. Then, you made me wait for you when I could’ve been doing absolutely anything else. And now you’re a dripping wet mess that’s messing up my brand new desks?” Mr. Nordenberg crossed his arms disapprovingly and waited for me to say something.
“I understand that you’re a bit agitated but-”
“Not a bit agitated. I’m extremely infuriated.”
“O-okay, but I haven’t been doing well in this class and I need help to getting an A. I’m at an 89.8% and I really need your help to round it up. I’m desperate, please?”
“If you were really desperate, you wouldn’t have gotten me this angry and then ask me to round your grade up. I don’t think so. If you want to bump up your grade, you’re going to have to get a hundred percent on the test tomorrow.”
“Mr. Norenberg, that’s so unfair! You said so yourself that this is the hardest chapter of the semester. Not even Austin can get a perfect score! You’d have to study for hours upon hours for a hundred percent.”
“Well then I hope you studied, Ms. Kennett.” The bell rang. “See you in fourth period.” I sighed as students began to file in.
First through third period were over in a heartbeat, but my heart raced with embarrassment and anxiety for fourth. Flashbacks of the morning’s event repeated through my mind, each time making me cringe even more. I slipped into my seat, trying to be unseen as possible to the teacher. The bell rang and Mr. Norenberg almost began class before Donovan King nonchalantly walked through the propped open door.
“Mr. King,” the teacher spitted out with venom, “I see you decided to grace us with your presence today.”
“Pleasure’s all mine,” Donovan smirked. Before Mr. Norenberg could scold him, the fire alarm went off. He frowned even more.
“I forgot about the fire drill. Okay everybody, single file line. Mr. King, since you like to be last to everything, go find the emergency bag. It’s somewhere here. Ms. Kennett, watch him, considering you like to watch things that won’t change without effort.”
The class left as I rolled my eyes. I turned around to find Donovan behind Mr. Norenberg’s desk.
“Uh, I’m pretty sure the backpack can fit in his desk drawer,” I yelled over the fire alarm. Donovan stopped his shuffling to look me up and down in disgust, rolling his eyes, and continuing his snooping.
“Found it,” Donovan cheered. He began to walk over to his desk, next to mine, before a neighboring teacher popped his head into the classroom.
“What are kids still doing here?” she questioned.
“Well, uh, our teacher sent us to grab the emergency bag, but we can’t seem to-” Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a red tag. I walked over to find the emergency bag in the back corner of the classroom. “Nevermind, we’ll head out now.” I turned back to signal Donovan, but he was already beside me.
As we headed out, I turned to him and asked, “What did you take from his desk?”
“The answer sheet to tomorrow’s math test,” Donovan said in a composed tone. I halted before turning to him in panic. I examined him desperately looking for it.
“Checking me out, Kennet?”
“You wish. Where’s the answer sheet?”
“It’s actually a funny story, you see this is morning I tried to go and get the answer sheet myself, but the door was wide open. At first I was about to leave, but then I heard your whining, really childish by the way, and I decided to check it out. Heard you were desperate for a better grade, almost too desperate. Figured it’d be easy to frame you if I got caught. I showed up late so Norenberg would make me stay behind to find the emergency bag. You know someone who loves things to be perfect and orderly, he’d actually be neat himself, but guess not. Anyway I also figured he’d still be bitter about this morning’s incident and make you follow with me.”
“I didn’t expect you to be so clueless, though. Stealing that answer key was like stealing candy from a baby. I took a quick picture of it before sliding it in your folder and getting caught by the teacher. Thanks for helping a poor guy like me out, sweetcakes. See you later.” Donovan laughed as he sped walk to his friends up ahead. I was left there, appalled and shocked.
I was stuck in my mind, thinking of any possibilities that could get me out of this situation. Maybe this was a bad dream maybe if I just pinched my-
Ow.
Nevermind. The class was slowly walking back, drawing out time before the time rings, to avoid the inevitable rant Mr. Norenberg was about to give us. We were finally seated when the bell had rung.
“Wait. The bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do.” The teacher scolded as he shuffled through his desk drawers. “Where is the answer key?” He kept mumbling to himself. After a minute of mindless shuffling, he slammed the drawers and pounded his fists against the wooden table. “Somebody took my answer key. I put it in here yesterday after school so that means anyone of you could’ve taken it. You better fess up or else,” he hits the desk, causing me to jump, “the consequences will only pile up.”
I had to find away to return the answer key without getting caught.
After that horrendous school day was over, I knew I had to at least attempt to return the answer sheet. Mr. Norenberg always had a gallon water bottle by his side which he would finish by sixth period. Also, the nearest bathrooms were in front of the gym so he doesn’t let anyone use the restroom during class. Since he is a “man of his words who should never be tested”, he doesn’t use the restroom during the school day either. However, what goes in must go out…
A few minutes after the last bell had rang, I walked over to find the door swung wide open. I attempted to look normal as I fast walked into his classroom. Before I could pull out the key, a voice interrupted.
“Ms. Kennet, what exactly are you trying to do?” Mr. Norenberg asked, hands on hips.
“Well I- uh…” I stuttered.
“I know,” I halted, “You’re trying to ask me to round your grade again? Well don’t even try asking again. After today’s answer key incident, I’m not in the best mood to round anybody’s grade. Now get out!”
I quickly shuffled out the door as he shut it. Sighing, I run my hands through my tangled, blonde hair. I had absolutely no idea what to do. How was I supposed to sneak back the answer sheet without getting into trouble. A snicker could be heard by a nearby bench. My head snapped in the direction of the noise. Donovan King sat there, arms resting against the top, laughing at me.
“You’re such an amateur, Norah,” Donovan spat. I rolled my eyes and began walking in the opposite direction. With faint sound of his clothes sliding and his footsteps getting louder, he said, “If you really want to return the answer key, let me help you.”
“Tell me again why I should trust you?” I asked, eyebrow raised.
“Look, I can be a nice guy.” I snort. “Hey, I can! I feel bad for putting you in this situation. You have to admit that was a pretty cool plan, though. Just let me help you out.”
“I mean I don’t have any other choice,” I sighed, pinching my nose. He pumped his fist in the air in victory and we began walking to the school parking lot. For half the time, it was a silent walk, besides the scraping of gravel beneath our feet.
“You’re pretty weird, Norah,” Donovan admitted, speaking up after the quiet. I raised my eyebrow.
“And why is that?”
“Well, you literally have the answer key to the hardest test of the year in your hands,” Donovan pointed out. I clutched my binder tighter. “You know you need 100% to bump up your grade and this is a guaranteed way of getting it. But, you’re not even going to glance at it? Not even a peek?” I shook my head.
“I have to do this the right way.” I assured him. He nodded in acceptance as we paused in the lot. By this time, we reached my car and I was fishing my keys out of my bag. “Well, see ya later.” I hopped into my car and started the engine.
Donovan knocked on my window, resulting me to roll it down. He simply commanded, “Wear black tomorrow. Six a.m. sharp,” and walked away. I sat there,, confused for a few seconds before driving home. That night, I studied hours upon hours, just like Mr. Norenberg wanted. At times, I just wanted to rip my binder open and look at the answer key. I knew better than that, however. At one in the morning, I finally closed the textbook, feeling accomplished, and slept.
The next morning, I pulled into the parking lot, sipping the tea in my hand and grabbing my phone to text Donovan for his location. Before I could hit send, a knock on my window sent my phone flying on my lap and my heart out of my chest. I snapped my head to find Donovan snickering outside my car door. I groaned and got out of the car.
“Good morning to you, too,” I mumbled.
“I see you decided to wear all black,” Donovan pointed out.
“You told me to.”
“Oh yeah. Well I’m wearing black, too.”
“Because you always do, Donovan.”
“You’ve got a point. Anyway, game plan. Since Mr. Snore-enberg had to wake up early for the fail of a meeting with you yesterday, he’s probably catching a few extra z’s. I know a guy who knows a guy who has a copy of Snore-enberg’s room key.”
“Sketchy,” I commented.
“Mhm, I’ll open the door and you go and return the answer sheet. It’s the second one on the left hand side. It was on top of everything. I’ll keep watch. If he comes in, just say you were waiting for him so that he could help you review for the test.” I nodded and we began to walk towards his classroom. “Alright, mission is a go.”
He handed me a pair of black, glossy sunglasses. I took it in my hand and looked over at him as he put them on, attempting to be cool, but accidentally poking his eye in the process. I laughed before I carefully put mine on. He quietly unlocked the door and I tiptoed in.
Mr. Norenberg’s classroom was dark, the only light came from the open door. The empty classroom seemed to creak as I stepped closer and closer to the desk. I wasn’t sure why I was trembling. Was I cold? Was I nervous? Was it the AC? Maybe it felt like everyone was staring at me do this horrible thing. But no one was there. Inching toward the desk, my heart beat faster. The self doubt creeping into my skin, one goosebump at a time. The walk across the classroom seemed to take hours upon hours, but it was only a few seconds. I wrapped around the desk to the other side. My eyes scanned for that second drawer. I slung my bag onto the ground and pulled out my binder. I slowly glided the test paper out of the binder pocket, careful not to peak at it, and pulled open the drawer. The existing adrenaline rushed everywhere- to the tips of my ears to the bottom of my feet. My heart pumping, my brain questioning: Did I actually get away with this? I was ready to slide the that slip of paper into the drawer, ready to get this over-
“Would you like to explain what you’re doing,” a booming voice asked. I froze in place. “Get up Ms. Kennet.” I stood up, seeing Mr. Norenberg with one hand on his hips and the other grasping Donovan by the collar.
“Mission has been compromised,” Donovan mumbled in defeat.
“Both of you. Office. Now.”
Donovan and I slowly walked to the office, shuffling our feet in sorrow.
“We were so close,” Donovan mumbled. “Gee, I really feel bad for getting you into this.” He scratched the back of his neck. I looked at him, his green eyes filled with guilt. I shook my head.
“It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done.”
“I have to say, you guys went through pretty extreme measures to get here,” the principal said. We were seated across from the principal as he sat there tapping his pen on his stack of detentions. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you here, Mr. King, but not for things like this. Look, Norah, I could’ve gone easier on you if you had come right out and told the truth. The fact that you kept the answer sheet overnight makes you just as guilty. I can’t trust your word if you say you didn’t look it over. You both should be ashamed. Both of you will get zeroes on your test and detention this afternoon.”
I sank into my chair. I couldn’t make eye contact with Donovan or the principal.
What did I do?
So this was it- the end. I adjusted the bag drooping on my shoulder and opened the hallway doors. The heels of my shoes tapped against the white tile, the clacking bouncing off the walls. My blonde hair was neatly tucked in as a black scarf wrapped around my head and the round sunglasses sliding down my nose mostly tinted the surrounding.
“This isn’t Breakfast at Tiffany’s. It’s detention, Norah, ” a voice groaned. I rolled my eyes before taking off my sunglasses and folding them.
“You know, Donavan, it’s really none of your business how I dress. For all you know, I could have something after this,” I protested.
“It’s a Wednesday night. You have no plans.” I huffed before walking to detention. The whole fiasco probably wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for Donovan King. But it was done, and I couldn’t help but be guilty as well. “Don’t worry, detention won’t be boring. I have a plan.”
“You know, I don’t think your plans tend to work,” I laughed.
