A/N: OK, here's my second chapter. Just to warn you, my updates won't always come this close together, and again, please don't slice and dice me. I know I'm not Shakespear and don't need you to remind me ;)
Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!!!! A damn shame, but the truth (Please don't sue me)
Chapter Two- You've got to be kidding me!
The detention was in the multipurpose room. Normally, Gabby wouldn't have minded it there, but today, it looked like prison. She was late, and everyone else was already sitting there. She looked around at the four other people. My God, she thought. This is exactly like it was when my parents were here. How the hell does that happen?
There was a thick silence in the room, so to fill it Gabby snapped her gum. There was a really cute boy staring at her. "What the hell are you looking at?" She demanded.
"Uh, nothing..." he said. She could guess he was a jock. A pro one, not just a hobby athlete like Gabby.
I should've worn another outfit, she thought. She had on a black shirt, with a sparkly pink gun on it. Above the gun, in sparkly pink cursive writing, it said: DAZZLING. Below the gun in the same writing, it said: BUT DANGEROUS. She was wearing a pair of blue jeans, that molded to her body in an appealing way. Much to her parents' relief, she couldn't stand girls who flashed themselves to anyone who would look, so she didn't even own a skirt, although the style at the time was mini skirts.
She walked pass the prom queen, a real bitch that wore tight shirts, sometimes without a bra and of course, she wore a miniskirt. "Johnson right?" Gabby asked, snapping her gum again.
"Yeah."
"Brian your Dad?"
"What's it to you?"
"Relax it was just a question."
"Yeah he's my Dad."
Brian Johnson. The brain from Saturday detention, with her parents year of Saturday detention.
This is too weird.
Gabby sat in a seat in the back row. She leaned her head on her desk, and waited for Watson to show up. "What's your name?" She called to the jock.
"Me?" He asked.
"Yeah."
"Aaron Bender."
Gabby let her head fall onto the table, with a loud thump.
"Are you all right?" An odd looking boy wearing glasses asked.
"Sure. Who're you?" All of the people who her parents talked about were already there, well ... sort of.
"Oh, I'm Matt. Matt Lester."
Gabby choked. "Lester? Please, please tell me your Dad's name isn't Larry."
"How'd you know?!"
"Holy shit!" She let her head fall down onto her desk again. She was almost afraid to face the final member in detention. If her memory served her correctly, it should be her mother, a.k.a, the basketcase.
"So. Who're you?" She asked the dark clothed girl, who was sitting a row ahead of her.
The girl turned to look at her. "Darkness," she said with a weird grin.
"Oh no." Gabby propped both of her elbows on her desk, and rested her forehead on her hands.
"Do you need an aspirin or something?" Matt asked.
"Bite me," she said sarcastically.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Never mind."
Just then Watson walked in. "And the torture begins," Gabby said to herself.