Apologize

Water Balloons

I hopped off of the bus and plodded into the prison that we call school. I'm finally finished with feeling so poorly, but now I've got a ton of make up work to keep me busy. The first bell still hadn't rung as I walked into the Eleventh Grade corridor and towards my locker. I reached locker number 78 quickly, twisting my lock to spell out my last name in numbers: 18, 15, 19, 19.

I retrieved my things for science and shoved my history and math books in my locker to come back for later. I turned back around, only to be greeted by about three Ninth Graders standing in front of me, all of them holding one water balloon in each hand. My eyes widened and I backed up a step. Each of them took a step forward.

I saw Ash watching out of my peripheral vision, he was leaning against the doorway, just waiting for them to release their watery projectiles with that nasty smirk that always seems to dance on his lips. I wanted to run, to hide, to take cover somehow, but I know that a single movement would trigger them. My eyes darted around the hallways, searching for someone to help. But it was too late.

The first round of water balloons were sent flying towards me, breaking promptly on contact. In moments I went from dry to soaked, probably looking like a drowned rat. I stood frozen in place for a moment, then glared at Ash, who was laughing so hard that I could see the tears brimming in his eyes. I frowned, took a water balloon from one of the Ninth Graders, and walked backwards so that I was about ten feet away from Ash.

"Looks like 'Sunshine' has a bit of sass," I quipped before throwing the water balloon flying towards him. It hit him rather hard in the stomach, splattering everywhere. Pleased, I smiled to myself and walked to class so that I might actually be early. Most kids wait in the gym for the first bell to ring, including myself, and I wish I had done the same today. But at least I got my revenge.

The bell rang, and I quickly found myself a seat in the back, waiting for my teacher and fellow students to shuffle into the classroom. I forgot about how I was absolutely drenched, my hair heavy on my shoulders with with water, my clothes completely ruined for the time being. That was, at least, until Mr. Webb walked in and saw how big of a mess I was.

"Miss Ross, would you care to explain?" He asked, knowing what I should explain was implied. The handful of students who walked in before Mr. Webb giggled, but I kept my head up.

"Well, I was obviously just out on a stroll in the park," I answered nonchalantly, causing an even louder eruption of laughter from the quickly filling classroom.

"And what would the non sarcastic answer be?" His voice grew impatient, he's clearly heard enough of my stupid answers to know that I tend to be sarcastic in the mornings.

"Ninth Graders, some water balloons, and my terrible reflexes are such an easy recipe for disaster, you know," I said, allowing him to connect the dots. Mr. Webb only sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and walked over to his desk.

"And I'm guessing that'd be a three day detention?" I asked, knowing that to be his usual punishment time for things like this.

"An hour after school, as usual."

"I'm a tutor on Tuesdays through Thursdays. Won't work," I informed casually. I've gotten most of my detentions from Mr. Webb, this being my sixth--or is it the seventh?--visit from him this year. Trust me, I'm a good kid. Just not in the mornings.

"Then you can go ahead and take today as ISS," he sighed. I nodded, packed up my things, and walked over to him to get my slip. ISS is In School Suspension and I've only been in there once before. In Ninth Grade, I may or may not have gotten into a small argument with Cartney, which she turned into a huge fight. I won.

I grabbed my slip and took long strides to the door. I turned, gave a two finger salute, and walk out. If I'm going to ISS, at least I can leave with my little bit of dignity. I walked quickly down the corridor, past the still wet floor from my incident just minutes earlier. I turned, now headed towards the Office.

I reached the Office doors quickly. They were two-way push doors, also made with glass and protected by a thin sheet of plastic on either side. I pushed one door open and walked over to the desk, handing my slip to Mrs. Grady. She nodded, already knowing that I was familiar with the path to the ISS room. I walked down the small hallway, took a right, then walked through the third doorway on the left.

"Miss Ross," Mrs. Smith said with a nod, pointing me to a desk near the back. She knew I wasn't a terribly bad kid, which comes with some perquisites. She allows me to sit in the back, and also gives me the occasional classical song choice. I always choose Rhapsody in Blue.

"What was it this time?" Ben whispered to me over his shoulder. Ben is a usual here, something Christine never approved of. I wrote a small note on one of my old papers, handing it to Ben.

It answered, "mr. w didnt believe me when i told him the truth." Ben snickered softly when he read it, then slipped it back to me. I shrugged and got to work on the assignments that Mrs. Smith placed onto my desk.

Other than the soft classical music that played from Mrs. Smith's desktop and the tapping of my own fidgety foot, the room was peacefully quiet. I enjoyed it greatly, because that made it easier for me to briefly drift off in my head for short periods at a time.

•••

"I hope you're happy, those brats landed me a day in ISS," I complained to Ash when he'd walked into the library. I got set up early, and had been waiting for him for a few minutes. I've mostly dried, but my hair is still damp and my shoes squish with every step I take.

"And why would you think that I had anything to do with 'those brats'?" Ash asked innocently, batting his eyelashes like several girls at my school do. I snorted and shook my head, picking up my stack of flash cards and standing up.

"Oh, nothing. Maybe just the fact that you were there right as they threw the balloons." It was honestly a bit of a stretch, but knowing him, it's also probably correct.

"I guess you got me." He smiled to himself, obviously pleased at his evil feat. I knew it!

"Why would you do that?" I yelled, my ears burning. Ash pulled out a piece of notebook paper with words scribbled on the other side. He turned it around so that I could read it. A few sentences were crossed off, and the top of the paper labeled it as 'Aaron Kayla's Debts'​​​​​​.

I gaped at the paper, taking several minutes to take it all in. "You actually made a list?!" This boy was insane.

"I keep my word," he said cheekily. I started giggling and he quickly added, "I might've forgotten how to spell your name, but I figured it out." I shook my head, still laughing at his stupid blunder.

"Whatever. You'd better sit down, Mrs. Patton wanted me to read this thing aloud. Hey, isn't it funny how your Dad has the same name as Mrs. Patton?" I only just now realised that. Wow. "Any who, back to the papers." I cleared my throat while Ash took a seat, pulling his hoodie, which I did return to him yesterday, over his head.

" 'Which war started in Eighteen-Sixty-One?' " I asked, reading the question straight from the cards.

"Wasn't that the American Civil War?" Ash answered, though it was phrased more as a question. I nodded.

" 'Who was elected president the year isn't before that?' " Well, wasn't this a nice perk of being a tutor? These are obviously going to be questions on the upcoming test.

"Abraham Lincoln. Honestly, do we have to use the flashcards?" Ash whined.

"Yes. Now shut up." I continued asking the questions, Ash answering reluctantly each time. There seemed to be an endless amount, with each card taking from two to four minutes each for Ash to answer.

" 'When did the American Civil War end?' " I asked, reading the last card. Ash paused.

"Eighteen... Eighteen-Sixty-Four?" I looked at him with a huge smile on my face, then extended my hand for a high-five.

"Awesome job! You've raised your grade so much over the past month and a half!" He high-fived me unenthusiastically, showing his clear resentment of the flashcards. Realisation that soon I wouldn't need to tutor him washed over me, giving me a feeling that I wasn't expecting. When I first started, all I wanted to do was raise Ash's grade enough so that I wouldn't need to tutor him anymore. And I was... sad?

Why would I be sad to know that soon I'm not going to need to tutor him anymore?