Perfection

Surprise

I sit in detention, doodling on my paper. Kylie, Maisy, and Stacy sit clustered together in the back corner of the room. I should have known this would happen. I never should have cut class with them the other day. Luckily, since it's my first offense, I only get one detention. Kylie and the other girls get five.
Miss Emerson, the plump teacher with a sour face, sits in the front of the room. She glances at the clock and lets out a sigh. "Okay, you troublemakers. You may go." She waves us out of the room as the late bell rings. I hurry down the hall to the front of the school when I spot someone sitting in the corner, hunched over, clicking a Rubik's cube. I notice that they have the white face solved, and are working on the blue one. I call out to them. "You're supposed to do it in layers, not by faces."
The person looks up, and I blink in surprise.
"Sawyer?" I blurt out.
He smiles. "Tracie! I had no idea you went to this school."
"I didn't know you went here, either," I say, heading over to him. "Why are you here late?"
"Chess club," he sighs. "You?"
My face reddens. "Detention." When I see his confused look, I rush to explain. "The popular crowd invited me to cut classes with them."
Sawyer frowns. "And you went along with it?"
"Well, it's not every day that the popular kids say you can hang out with them."
"Tracie, be honest with yourself: How much of it was hanging out, and how much was them pranking you?"
"They did not prank me!" I exclaim. "We played a game where I stood in the middle of the mall and kissed a random, unsuspecting stranger that walked by." I blush, feeling silly. "Well, maybe it was a prank. But they still invited me."
Sawyer sighs. "Tracie... I don't think you should be spending time around them."
I groan. "So you're one of those people? The 'Oh, popular kids are all bad, and blonde cheerleaders are dumb'?"
Sawyer's face turns red. "They verbally assault me at least once a day, Tracie. They copy my homework and the homework of some of the other nerds. They called my dad a scumbag."
"Well... I'm sure your dad's not really a scumbag, right?" I say, trying to lighten the mood.
Sawyer looks down at his lap. "My dad's dead."
I gape at him. "Oh my god, Sawyer! I'm so sorry!"
He looks away. "Yeah, well, there's nothing we can do about it now, is there?" He stuffs his Rubik's cube into his bag and stands up. "Where do you live?"
"State Street."
"You're kidding! So do I!"
I shyly smile. "Want to.. walk home.. together?"
He winks and links his arm in mine. "Absolutely!"