I Have A Shopping Mall in My Closet [EDITING]

Detention

I dragged myself through the next school day. The clock hand twitched, when the last second of school was over. The bell squealed. "Detention!", it screamed. I slid through the halls to room 22. Before I entered, I peered through the window pane. There he was, waiting quietly, twiddling with his pencil, ready to mooch off my work. I opened the door. "Hey", he whispered, only to be shushed by the supervisor. I took the empty seat next to him. He then reached into his bag to get a yellow notebook. He tore a page out and wrote:

#24 of Mr. Nelson's algebra homework please?

 The sparks returned, only in an angry red. I reluctantly obeyed, and took out my homework for him to examine. I watched patiently as he finished/copied the rest of my homework. Before he put his notebook away, he tor out a single sheet. He wrote:

so...how was your day?

I raised my eyebrows. How was my day? Any typical day of Arabella's life is bound be bad, until she takes a nap. I bit my tongue and wrote:

good.

He replied "cool". I was in disbelief. Cool? I wanted to get him out of his single syllable jail. I wrote this on the paper:

Was your day cool? Define cool and use it in a sentence, defining your day.

That was 18 syllables. He read what I wrote and looked at me weird. Satisfied, I stared at another desk, counting the gum wads that were stuck to the underside of  it. He poked my arm an slid the paper to my view:

Cool: fashionable and attractive at the time; often skilled or socially adept. Here, I'll give you a synonym too. Awesome. My day was cool (which is synonymous to awesome), but it ended quicker than I would have liked it to.

I had no idea he was the very least smart. Before, I only saw a brown haired, brown eyed jock that danced around Genevieve. Now, I saw my dream guy. I became frustrated as I tried to fix my kinky hair. I had to. I'm not good enough.