Awkward

/SOMETHING LOVEY/

-EPISODE 3.

I open the chat.

Roman: Ay look, Ava. Don't tell me.
I don't want to know.

I turn off my phone.

"Yeah, sure Ella!" I shout. "Let's play hide and seek!"

She whines from the other side of the door. "But I'm too big for hide and seek! I want a tea party... with Mum's teeeaa!"

I jump off my bed and walk to the door. She's obediently waited outside this time. Her eyes flicker up to me when I finally yank the door open.

"Please?" she adds.

I rub her head.
"Sure."

~~~|~~~

/DETENTION/

"Did you find the time to speak to Joseph?"

"No, Mrs Saunders."
I squirm in her seat again, too afraid to rest my head even though my neck feels so strained. This time she sits; she's across the fat desk like she's the one in trouble.

"Well that just won't do," she mutters. I'd rather have her sit on one of the sofas by the wall because the way she appears in the seat of shame just looks wrong. Like, it doesn't spin but she sits on it like it does.

I lift an elbow to the desk—

"Elbows. Off." she commands.
I hide my hands under, awkwardly resting them on my lap again.

I watch the clock. There's a large trophy cabinet on a side wall near it as well. I saw it yesterday. It's packed with a bunch of meaningless shields that are probably for a school sports day. The whole room is painted a creamy white save for the floor, which is concrete covered by a thick plain rug. It's even under her desk.

"I must say, you're awfully quiet." Her words are greeted with silence.

What?
You want me to moan or something?

I clear my throat, holding back my own laughter. I'm so funny.

"Not that there's something wrong with being a quiet student," she adds. "It's... admirable, really. It's just uh... just a... shocking- obedience considering— oh, never mind!"

We sit in silence for half an hour.

"So..." she starts, tapping a rhythm on her kneecaps. "What rule-breaking expeditions are next for you and your gang?"

I scoff.
'Gang'.

She chuckles to herself at her dry joke.
"Oh, come on!" She leans forward, plotting her elbows on the desk dividing us like a grained wooden battlefield. "There has to be something you all have planned!"

I shrug.

She gives me an encouraging smile.
"Come onnn, spill it, Turner! What is it?" she asks. "Raiding my office? Raining terror on our Redwood sophomores? A Valentine's Day massacre?!"

I almost laugh at the historical joke and she sees my face change. Her's does too.

"I... Turner, I was not being totally serious. The fact that you chose this moment to laugh is rather worrying."

"No I—"

—"Please remember that murder is a mistake that will haunt you to the grave! Seek help! Moreover, Valentine's Day is a day of love—"

"I don't need help!" I interject. And for the first time, she lets me talk. "I just thought.. Valentine's Day massacre... Al Capone..."

Her mouth curls in worry.
"And you.. found that funny?"