Nicole stopped near the bike rack, half in the shadow of a low wall. Under the oak tree, a small group clustered like something out of a teen drama—moody, effortlessly cool, and clearly up to no good.
One guy leaned on the trunk, cigarette tucked behind his ear like a prop. Another one lounged on the grass with a bottle half-wrapped in a paper bag. The girl, sharp-featured with smudged eyeliner and a cropped hoodie, passed it around like communion. They reminded her of the kind of people her mom warned her about—and the kind she always ended up with anyway. Curiosity won. She stepped closer.
The girl looked up first. "New face," she said. "Brave of you to wander over."
Nicole shrugged. "I was promised better scenery."
Denim Jacket guy snorted. "Cute and snarky. You lost, fairy?" Nicole blinked. "Seriously? Do I look lost?"
"You look brave," the girl said. "Or stupid. Hard to tell from here."
Nicole raised a brow. "Is this the school welcoming committee? Because I've had better."
"Feisty," said the guy in denim. "Wanna sit down? Or are you just here to judge?"
Nicole shrugged. "Just observing. Figured the local delinquents had better stories."
That got a laugh from Angel, who held the bottle out. "In that case, you earned a sip."
Nicole wrinkled her nose. "If I drink that, will I wake up in a ditch?"
"No promises."
another voice cut in—sharper, familiar.
"Of course you're here."
Nicole turned. Sky. Hair slicked back, boots heavy on the pavement. Same glare from class, like Nicole owed her something. Sky raised an eyebrow. "You just can't help yourself, huh?"
Nicole looked back at the group. "Didn't realize this tree was your private club."
"You don't even know them."
"Didn't know I needed references to say hi."
The girl passed the bottle to Micah, who took a long, theatrical swig. Sky ignored it—eyes locked on Nicole.
"People like you don't last here."
Nicole smiled. "Define 'people like me.'"
"You've got transfer student energy. All attitude, no clue."
Nicole was about to answer when Denim Jacket Guy stepped forward, offering the bottle. "Want a sip, mystery girl? Break some rules with us?"
Sky stepped in, close. "She was just about to leave, right baby?"
Nicole tilted her head.
Then—perfect timing—Mr. Frank appeared, sleeves rolled, mug in hand, exhausted already. "Is this a party, or am I crashing something illegal?"
Angel shoved the bottle at Nicole. Reflex. Nicole dumped it into a bush. Too late.
Mr. Frank sighed, eyes scanning the group. "Sky. Travis. Angel. Micah. And who's the volunteer tribute?"
Nicole raised her hand halfway. "New girl. Poor taste in friends."
He stared at her. "You're not even trying to lay low."
"Wasn't planning to."
"Awesome." He rubbed his face. "Micah, what's in the bottle?"
"Apple juice," Micah said, too fast.
"With attitude," Angel added.
Frank ignored that. "Sky. Why am I not surprised you're involved?"
Sky appeared like smoke, stepping out from behind the tree with her arms folded. "We're just sitting here."
"You're circling the drain," Frank muttered
Micah smirked. "It's barely alcohol."
Nicole stepped in. "So is communion wine, but I don't see the priest getting detention."
Frank blinked. "Did you just compare yourself to a priest?"
Nicole shrugged. "Holier than most people here."
That did it.
Mr. Frank looked up at the sky like he was asking the universe for strength. "Alright. I was going to ignore this. I wanted to. But now I'm assigning detention on principle. You wanna play smart? You can do it from inside a classroom at 3:15."
Angel groaned. "Seriously?"
Sky rolled her eyes. "This is ridiculous."
Nicole looked at them, then at Frank. "Do we at least get snacks?"
"Bring your own," he snapped. "And if any of you show up late, I'm calling home."
As the group started trudging back inside, Nicole fell in step beside Sky.
Sky glanced at her sideways. "You just couldn't keep your mouth shut."
Nicole smirked. "I wasn't built for silence."
Detention Royalty
Detention smelled like old chalk and teen rage. Nicole slouched into her seat near the back, arms folded, hood up. She didn't even glance at the others. She already knew who they were—Sky, Angel, Micah, and the quiet one, Travis, who was sketching some demonic creature into his desk like the world wasn't burning. Mr. Frank looked like he regretted his entire career. "This isn't group therapy," he said, sipping lukewarm coffee. "Keep your mouths shut, your butts in those seats, and your drama to yourselves."
Nicole raised a brow. "Wow. Inspirational."
Sky turned in her seat, crossing her legs slowly. "Still got that mouth, huh?"
Nicole smirked. "Still pressed about it?"
Angel laughed under her breath. "She's got guts. Stupid guts, but still."
Micah leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head. "Honestly, I kinda like her."
Travis didn't say a word, just glanced up with a lazy grin before going back to his drawing.
Mr. Frank groaned. "I'm begging you. One hour. Just one peaceful hour."
Silence. Until Sky muttered, "You don't belong here."
Nicole tilted her head, casually. "You mean detention or your little cult?"
Sky's eyes flashed. "You think you're better than us?"
"No," Nicole said. "Just cleaner."
Micah let out a laugh loud enough to make Mr. Frank bang his desk. "Enough! One more comment and I'll add another day."
Everyone shut up—mostly. Nicole leaned back, pen tapping against her lip, eyes flicking to Sky like a dare. Her pulse was steady, her smirk cool. But inside? Her chest buzzed. Not with fear. With something sharper. Something wild.
Across the room, Sky was still watching her. Calculating. Dangerous. Nicole smiled slightly. Yeah. This was gonna be fun.
The clock ticked like it had an attitude.
Nicole twirled her pen, pretending to care about the lame "reflection sheet" Mr. Frank handed out like it would change lives. Sky hadn't looked away once. Not for a second. The silence was thin and tight. Pens scratched paper. A chair creaked. Mr. Frank rubbed his temples like this wasn't in his job description. "I need aspirin. Nobody move. Nobody speak."
He stepped out, letting the door click behind him.
Angel finally whispered, "Yo, someone break the tension or kiss already."
Micah laughed under his breath. "I mean... if it's happening, let me grab popcorn first."
Sky snapped her head toward them. "Shut up."
Nicole turned slightly in her seat, voice smooth. "Why? Embarrassed?"
Sky stood, slow and controlled. "You talk too much for someone who just got here."
"And you act too tough for someone who needs backup."
That did it. Sky was across the room in seconds. The screech of her chair sent a jolt through the room. Nicole stood too, like it was choreographed, eyes level with hers.
Travis finally looked up. "Yo—Mr. Frank's gonna be back."
"He's not here now," Sky hissed.
Angel closed her notebook. "Here we go."
Nicole kept writing. Sky's hand slammed down on the desk. The paper jumped. Micah gave a low whistle. Travis just watched, unreadable. Nicole stood slowly. Not rushed. Not afraid. She was smaller, sure, but the way she looked at Sky—it cut.
"You want to make it physical?" Nicole said, voice low. "Fine. But don't miss."
Sky grabbed her collar. Nicole didn't flinch. Then Travis stood between them. "Chill. Frank's not dumb. He comes back and sees blood, we're all screwed."
Sky didn't let go right away. Her grip tightened. Nicole's eyes burned into hers.
Then, finally, Sky dropped her hands. "This isn't over."
Nicole smoothed her hoodie like it was nothing. "I didn't think it was."
Mr. Frank walked back in holding a vending machine soda like it was holy. He stopped mid-step. Blinked.
Everyone froze. Sky was still standing. Nicole too. The tension? Nuclear.
Frank sighed. "You know what? No. I don't get paid enough."
He pointed at the clock. "Fifteen more minutes. Sit. Down. Say nothing. Write your precious self-reflections or lie to me. I don't care."
Sky dropped back into her chair like gravity hated her. Nicole didn't sit right away—she just looked at her with that small, defiant smile and sat slowly, like she was doing the world a favor.
Frank muttered, "Y'all make soap operas look subtle."