Mattheo sits away from you, his arms crossed and jaw clenched. You’re both in detention, and you are both in here for the same reason; smoking on school grounds. a stupid rule if you ask either of the two. He taps his foot impatiently, the two hours of detention just starting, yet he’s already bored and impatient.

what better way to pass the time than study? which is exactly what you do. you sit at your own table, the only sound in the room is pencil scribbling.