The Little Mistakes (boyxboy)

Chapter 12

Mr. Shneider set his bag down on top of his desk and began to pull stacks of papers out of it. I curiously watched him as he did so. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rikert take his phone out and start fiddling with it. Unfortunately for him, though, Mr. Shneider took notice as well.

“Okay, Rikert,” he said. “Give me the phone.” Rikert groaned and unwillingly tossed it the short distance to the older man. I snickered a little. They both looked at me. “Alright, you can hand yours over too, Caise.”

“What? Why?” I argued. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Fair’s fair,” he said.

Rikert curled his lip at me. “Yeah, Caise. Fair’s fair.”

I gave him a dirty look and swore inaudibly under my breath. I got my phone out anyway and threw it into Mr. Shneider’s waiting hands.

“Thanks boys,” he said. Then he sat down and pulled out a pen to start grading his pile of papers.

“What are we supposed to do?” Rikert asked after only a couple minutes of silence. I could tell that he was already getting restless.

Mr. Shneider didn’t look up, or stop his work, but he quirked a brow at Rikert. “Read a book?”

“I don’t have one.”

“I could lend you a biology book,” he offered.

Rikert wrinkled his nose in distaste. “No thanks.”

“What about you, Caise?” Mr. Shneider enquired.

I sighed. “I’m good.”

“Isn’t there anything else we can do?” Rikert pressed, boredom filling his voice.

Mr. Shneider stilled his pen and looked up at us. “Boys, you’re not allowed to do homework. And you don’t have any books to read. So unless you’d like to write an essay repenting for the sins that landed you in here, I’d suggest you just sit still and be quiet.”

I dropped my head and leaned it against my hand, defeated. Rikert perked up, though. “If I wrote the essay, would it shorten my sentence?” he asked, full of hope.

Mr. Shneider looked at him with a dull expression. “No,” he quipped flatly. “It’s just something to pass the next...hour and forty-eight minutes.”

Mr. Shneider went back to his task. Rikert huffed before sighing dramatically. I slumped lazily over the table, propping my head up with my hand, and watched Rikert fidget in his seat. I wanted to smirk at the amusing sight, but that was too much effort. He looked so bored as he tapped quietly on the tabletop, shuffled his feet, and kept glancing at the clock.

After about five minutes, I closed my eyes. I drifted off a little but then someone kicked me harshly in the ankle. My eyes flew open and I drawled a loud “ow”. I glared at a smug-looking Rikert. Then I punched him in the arm.

“Seriously, boys,” Mr. Shneider warned, glancing pointedly between the pair of us.

“He was sleeping,” Rikert defended, rubbing at his arm.

“So what!” I said.

“No sleeping in here,” Mr. Shneider said, pointing his pen at me. “Now be quiet.”

Rikert and I exchanged a couple foul faces with one another until we got tired of that as well. Then we both drooped down, trying to will time to go faster.

For the next hour, the three of us sat in near-silence. The only sound that filled the room was the scratching of Mr. Shneider’s grading pen and the occasional flipping and rustling of papers. I almost fell asleep a dozen times and I swore Rikert was slowly going out of his mind as the minutes ticked by.