I had to serve my second detention in the same classroom as before, room D19. The furthest room down the hall on the fourth floor. It was probably one of the oldest rooms as well. With chalkboards, tables, and chairs older than my grandpa River, and musty wood floors, it must have been the oldest room on campus. My classes were mostly in rooms with tablets and computers during the day, but D19 had remained unchanged since the early 2000s.

  “Duke! You’re back,” a familiar voice greeted me as I walked into the room.

  “Have to be,” I said, while taking a seat further from Don than I had the day before.

  Mr. Henry was sitting behind his desk in the front of the room, doing something on his phone. For a teacher, he was relatively young. Looking back, he couldn’t have been much older than Don or me. What was he doing working at a prep school? The guy always looked exhausted or uninterested, so I couldn’t believe he enjoyed his particular career choice.

  “No talking, no phones, no leaving the room until 3:30. Understood?” Henry said with a yawn before standing up from his seat.

  Like before, he left the room with little to no warning. I hadn’t even settled into my seat yet, but already Don and I were alone again.

  “How many weeks did they give you?” Don asked from across the room.

  I tried to ignore him; I really did. I kept my eyes straight and blocked out any sounds that weren’t my own.

  “How many weeks did they give you?” Don repeated.

  He yelled so loudly Mr. Henry probably heard him down the hall.

  When I didn’t respond, Don started to yell again, so I finally turned to answer, “two weeks. They gave me two weeks.”

  “Is that ten days or 14?” he asked, but in a quieter voice.

  “14,” I said.

  Don was silent for a while after that, but only because he decided to check his phone.

  “You can’t do anything fun around here without getting detention,” he said without raising his eyes from the screen in his hands.

  “Right,” I muttered Unconsciously.

  Despite my reluctance to engage in conversation, he said something I found agreeable.

  As minutes ticked by, I began to believe detention would be just that. Don was less intrusive than before. I glanced over at his side of the room several times, but he didn’t seem focused on me at all.

  It was annoying.

  While I didn’t want him to be an abrasive oddball, I couldn’t deny how boring detention was without his voice. It wasn’t like we were friends, far from it. But I could have used something to pass the time. Just as I yawned, he got up from his seat and I completely missed it.

  Don walked over to the door, and I asked, “Where are you going?”

  I tried to hide my curiosity behind lazy, uninterested eyes, but I’m sure my question had enough energy behind it to reveal how invested I was.

  “To get something to eat,” he said, walking out of the classroom like it was nothing.

  Shocked, I sprang from my seat to catch the door behind him. I peeked my head out to speak before Don got too far down the hallway.

  “But detention?” I argued.

  “What about it?”

  “We have another hour and ten minutes,” I said.

  He turned back to me, and I remained with one foot in class and one foot in the hallway.

  “I’ll let you in on a secret, new guy. Every detention is long enough to go anywhere off campus and back. Sometimes, if I’m fast enough, I can even hit two places. Besides, Henry hates detention duty, so he’s never here. Even if he catches us, what can he do? Give us more detention?” Don said.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The logic was sound enough, but risks were risks.

  “So you’re just getting something to eat?” I questioned further.

  “I can bring you back something,” he offered with a devious grin.

  I took off my glasses and put them in my pocket before saying, “I... I think I’ll go with you.”

  Don’s expression lit up, and he pulled me from the classroom to put an arm around my shoulder.

  “Duke Stout has balls after all,” he joked while we went on our way, and I said, “If we get in trouble, I’m blaming you.”

  Since Cook Academy was a boarding school, people were always around. To the South was the Boy’s House Building, and to the North was the Girl’s House Building. Between the two was a collection of classroom buildings, facilities, and the gym. During the day, anyone could wander the area. After hours, boys had to be in the boy’s building, and girls had to be in the girl’s building.

  It wasn’t late into the evening yet.

  While there weren’t many people wandering around the halls, Don and I had to be careful not to be seen on our way outside, regardless. Even though he showed no concern, had we been discovered, an extra week of detention would have been unavoidable.

  I was relieved when we managed to escape.

  Massachusetts was nothing like Seattle. The sky was brighter and vibrant. The sun was hot. There was so much color to everything. Despite being surrounded by grass and a genuine wilderness atmosphere, Cook Academy was only a short 15-minute walk away from the nearby town.

  “So you’re adopted, right?” Don asked as we transitioned from grass to pavement under our shoes.

  “Yeah, why?” I said, a little confused and taken off guard.

  “You don’t look anything like your dads.”

  “That’s how adoption works. Is there something wrong with that?” I said.

  “Not at all. I’m into the hot nerdy thing you got going on,” he joked; at least, I thought it was a joke at the time.

  Don had led me to believe, or tried to convince me, that we had time to go somewhere and return without being found out. Sadly, as we walked through the red-brick town, I couldn’t help but watch the clock.

  “Will you relax,” he said, but I had to ask, “where are we going?”

  “You’ll know it when you see it,” Don answered smugly.

  We were taking too long. My feet didn’t want to take another step forward, but I didn’t know the area well enough to navigate back to school without Don. As I started to sweat, I could see him grinning. What was so funny? I wondered until we turned down a corner and it was there.

  Beef Babys.

  It had come a long way from the unhealthy burger joint it started as. It used to be famous for ceiling-high burgers and secret sauce. Somehow, over the years, it had turned into health food that unsuccessfully mimicked junk food.

  “My grandpa used to work for one of the first beef Babys,” I told Don after we ordered our food and stood waiting for it to come out of the kitchen.

  “My grandparents are all dead,” Don said, killing the mood until he added, “but they were doctors.”

  Our food came out faster than expected, but Don’s mother was an executive over the food chain, after all. I thought we’d take our meal to go, but my red-haired detention buddy sat at a table. Giving in to peer pressure, I followed his lead.

  “What kind of doctors?” I asked.

  “The kind that fuck with your head,” he laughed and nonchalantly took something from his pocket.

  A pill bottle? He had it out, open, then back in his pocket so fast I might have missed it had he actually tried hiding it. He took two pills in front of me. Again, it was hard not to judge, but I did my best. Either way, after he moved on to swallowing french fries, I spoke up.

  “What were those?”

  Don looked up from his food and I could visibly see as he realized I was asking about the pills rather than the fries. I wasn’t sure he’d actually say anything. “They make sure I don’t hurt myself again,” he answered.

  “Again?”

  “I forgot you weren’t here last year,” Don chuckled before continuing to explain. “It’s a long story, a long melodramatic story I’d rather not get into right now.”

  At least he had a reason. Had he not, I might have made greater and worse assumptions.

  “We should start heading back,” I suggested.

  “We just sat down,” Don argued.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t want to get in trouble.”

  I decided to get up and leave the table. I was too anxious to wait any longer, even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to find my way back.

  “Hang on,” he said, following behind me with our bag of burgers.

  He caught up to me outside and blocked me from going any further.

  “I brought you here, paid for the food and everything. I think you owe me,” he said.

  “I can pay you back for my food. Just show me how to get back to school,” I said.

  “I don’t want that.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  He smiled and took his time, saying, “A kiss.”

  I was amazed at myself for being tricked by an idiot into leaving school and getting lost.

  “Just one,” he added, but I stepped around him.

  Even though I was probably going the wrong way, I couldn’t face him after his incredibly unfunny joke. But then I had to ask myself, was it a joke?

  “Are you even gay?” I asked, turning back around.

  “I’m gay enough,” he answered.

  He was serious. How was he serious?

  “No,” I answered, but he repeated, “Just one.”

  The ask was so ridiculous; I had to say, “Why?”

  “If we make out, that’ll make this like a date,” he said shamelessly.

  The longer we stood there, the more anxious I got. Did I want Don of all people to be my first kiss? Definitely not... probably not. But I didn’t want another week of detention either.

  As the sun beamed down on my face, and tension grew into a gut pain, I gave in. I kissed him. He kissed me, but it wasn't terrible. Don didn’t hold back. Whether he was gay or not, he knew how to use his tongue, his hands, even his eyes.