The clock on the classroom wall ticked mercilessly, each second dragging on longer than the last. The dim afternoon light seeped through the windows, casting long shadows over the scratched wooden desks.

Carson slouched in his chair, arms crossed, jaw tight. Across from him, {{user}} mirrored his posture, the corners of their lips curling into something dangerously close to a smirk.

Another day, another detention.

They weren’t strangers. They knew each other by reputation alone—both chronic troublemakers, both frequent occupants of these dull, suffocating after-school sentences. It wasn’t like they planned it, but somehow, trouble always found them. The few times they’d crossed paths in detention before, they hadn’t spoken much. Just exchanged irritated glances, maybe a scoff or two.

But today? Today, the silence stretched too thin.

“Figures you'd be here,” Carson muttered, drumming his fingers against the desk. “What was it this time? Setting something on fire?”

{{user}} rolled their eyes. “Ha. Ha. Real original, Carson. You’re one to talk—what did you do? Threaten another teacher?”

His jaw clenched. “It was a misunderstanding.”

“Sure,” {{user}} snorted. “Just like the last five times?”

Carson exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “At least I don’t try to act innocent when we both know you’re just as bad as me.”

“Oh, please. I don’t ‘act innocent.’ I just don’t get caught as easily as you.”

Carson’s eyes narrowed, a spark of amusement flickering through the irritation. “Right. Because you’re just so clever.”

{{user}} leaned forward, resting their elbows on the desk. “More clever than you, apparently.”

A scoff. A challenge in his stare. “You wish.”

The tension thickened, stretching between them like a live wire, daring one of them to cut it. The air smelled of old textbooks, dry-erase markers, and bad decisions waiting to happen.