Disclaimer: I don't own the Newsies. I never read the Outkasts.
A.N: Hope you guys like it...
Detention- 8:03 A.M
Davin Simmons
a.k.a
Dutchy
Nine other guys were in the room when I arrived. Nine other guys with varying degrees of annoyance on their faces...three of which looked like they were going to kill someone...
I stood in the doorway for a few minutes, trying to figure out where to sit- next to the one wearing a cowboy hat or the one drumming out Young and Hopeless out with two pencils...Oh decisions...
"You seem to enjoy being late." I jumped slightly, hearing that familiar screeching voice that is Miss. Larksen come from behind me.
She was glaring at me, temporarily blinding my eyes with her new outfit of neon pink on purple.
"Go sit!" she snapped, pointing to a seat. I followed her finger mutely, avoiding looking at my fellow inmates.
"Now," she said, trying very hard to be intimidating and failing. "You all know why you're here." She started walking about the semi-circle of desks, talking away some kid's deck of cards and slapping the pens away from the drumming boy. Don't worry, he kept the beat with his hands.
"Hoodlums. Creating problems for the school! Each of you have FIVE MONTHS to think about what you did...with the exception of one who shall remain NAMELESS who may be coming here for the rest of his High School career!" she glared here which brought a snort out of a feminine looking boy.
"You have four hours to sit here and reflect upon your horrible actions. No talking, no eye contact, no-"
"Breathing?"
"Any PROBlems," she said, pointedly staring at the boy she had taken the cards from "And I will make sure you're punished further. If anything's WRONG, I will make sure you're PUNISHED. If you even think about creating problems for anybody outside of this room I will make sure you are-"
"Punished?"
"NO MONKEY BUSSINESS!" And with that she turned on her stilettos, tripped and fell out the door.
Cards shook his head. "Dumbass."
We all sat and stared at one another. Well, Girly was kind of glaring and one terrified looking kid seemed amazingly interested with his shoes.
Silence fell.
Well, silence with the exception of the constant banging of pens to the rhythm of Only the Good Die Young.
"Oh my GOD don't you ever shut UP?" It seemed as though Girly had already snapped.
Drummer shook his head no and switched to Lithium.
"JESUS!" I cowered in my seat...that little guy was scary...
Er, I mean...yeah he really was though.
"Five to one Spot kills Skittery, who's bettin'?" Cards' words were followed by "Nah, bust." Spot? Skittery...?
"Shut up RACEtrack!" shouted the one called Spot, losing all feminine qualities (...well, most of them anyway) "Don't pretend it ain't botherin' you too."
Racetrack (?!) raised an eyebrow at Spot and shrugged.
"I guess some people are more irritable than others."
"Shut up."
"You shut up."
"It's a free country."
"My fist up your ass should change your opinion."
"Shut up!"
"Both of you SHUT UP."
"You shut up Cowboy!"
I looked over to the boy who had decided to join the shut up game. He was the one wearing a cowboy hat, red bandanna and a pissed off expression on his face.
I heard someone mutter next to me and looked. It was a dark haired guy with two huge front teeth. Cowboy's head snapped to him.
"What was that, THIEF?"
"First of all, if you're going to insult me, I'm SNITCH," he said sarcastically. "And I said I can't believe I'm going to be stuck here for five mother fucking months with you annoying bastards!"
Silence again, except for a new rendition of Kryptonite.
"SHUT UP SKITTERY!" shouted Spot, Racetrack and Jack at once.
"Don't tell him to shut up!"
"You shut up, Thief!"
"SNITCH!!!"
"Oh my GOD SHUT UP!"
"How monotonous can we get."
A new, dry voice added itself to the group, spoken by a handsome boy with tight, curly hair and glasses.
"You shut up, Specs."
"Only if you do it first."
"I'LL NEVER SHUT UP!!!!"
"Guys, if we don't tone it down Miss. Larksen'll come and get us into more trouble!"
"Shut up Walking Mouth."
A boy with dark, curled hair and big blue eyes glared at Cowboy. "I resent that nickname and would prefer it if you referred to me by my given name, David."
Jack rolled his eyes at the ceiling and slumped down in his chair. "I need a cigarette."
Spot snorted. "You mean a cancer stick?"
"No, I mean a CIGARETTE."
I rolled my eyes and put my head in my arms. I was stuck with a bunch of strangers who, apparently, had no real name and, by the looks of things, hated one another!
Somebody put me out of my misery.
"What Blondy, got a problem?"
I shook my head without looking up to see who had spoken.
Too scared.
"Is that his name?"
"I don't know, is Cowboy yours?"
"You know what I mean, dumbass."
"Fuck you."
"Right back atcha."
I felt somebody prod my back and turned my head. Doey brown eyes stared at me.
"What's your nickname?" he asked softly, gaining attention from the dueling assholes.
"Da...Davin," I stuttered out, surprised. Nobody at this God Forsaken school had spoken to me for a week...
I heard a snort and turned to look at Skittery. "Think my name's funny?" I snapped, feeling my ears turn pink...yeah, it was...
He nodded, still tapping something out with various body parts.
"You don't have a nickname?" I turned to the Eye Patching wearing kid and shook my head no.
"What are you, popular?" Spot asked with disgust. Another shake.
"I'm new."
"A FRESHman?"
"No, Junior."
"Why the hell'd you transfer High School in Junior year?"
I shrugged, not wanting to tell these strangers my life story.
"You assholes scared him," came the calm voice of Specs.
I snapped my head up.
"I'm not scared," I said defiantly.
Spot glared at me and I jumped a little bit.
Eye Patch shook his head. "People call me Kid Blink and I believe they call Shy Guy Mush."
Mush nodded for confirmation, avoiding all possible eye contact.
"I don't know those guys' real names, only nicknames. We got them because we're loners, the misfits-"
Spot interrupted him.
"Oh GOD I feel like we're in the Morning Club."
"BREAKFAST Club, dumbass."
"Whatever, that movie sucked AND swallowed."
"No it didn't, it was one of the most original and-"
"Boring?"
"Shut up!"
"You shut up!"
"It's getting old!"
"Oh mign god, ga ik deden," I muttered, pulling my head into my arms again. "Waarom niet houden zij enkel op, die ondraaglijke ezels." There was a silence in the room.
"What the HELLLL did you just say?"
I looked up to see nine pairs of eyes staring at me, some with open mouths.
Talk about deer in the headlights.
"Nothing."
"Was that in English?"
"...yes..."
"No it wasn't."
"That was Dutch, was it not?"
Nine heads swerved towards David.
"Y-yes...how did you know?"
David shrugged. "It sounded like Dutch."
"How the hell do YOU know Dutch?" asked Spot in disgust.
David sighed. "First of all I never said I know Dutch, just that it sounded like it. And second of all, I'm a genius, remember? Always spitting out facts? WALKING MOUTH?"
Spot just snorted and rolled his eyes.
"You can speak Dutch?" a shy voice asked me. I looked over to see the Mush kid staring at me.
I slowly nodded my head. "I was born in Holland...I came to America when I was twelve."
"And now you're..."
"Sixteen."
"Why don't you got an accent?" Spot asked from across the room.
"Have..." I heard Specs mutter, still "reading" his book.
I shrugged. I don't know...I guess I adapted really well or something."
"I heard your nickname."
Everybody turned to look at Skittery, who had subsided his banging to a mere tapping of his foot.
"You talk?" Racetrack asked sarcastically.
Skittery chose to ignore him.
"They called you Dutchy. Because they heard you tell the Spanish class you speak fluent Dutch."
I shrugged. Hey, could be worse.
I could've been Blondie...
Detention 11:12 A.M
Jacob Rivera
a.k.a
Snitch
"Ugh, what the hell time is it?!"
"Go get a watch."
"How much longer?!"
"Should've brought a book."
"I'm bored enough already."
"Fuck you."
"No, fuck YOU!"
I resisted the urge to band my head repeatedly against my desk into unconsciousness. Three hours later and it seemed the "shut up" game had turned into the "fuck you" game!
I looked around at my fellow "criminals". Jack was fiddling with the edges of his bandanna, looking like he was going into nicotine withdrawal. Not a surprise as he was usually seem with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth...Racetrack had taken another pack of cards out and kept shuffling them, over and over, making almost as much noise as Skittery and causing Spot's eye to twitch. Mush looked like he was counting cracks in the floor while Dutchy seemed to enjoy the taste of his fingernails...disgusting...Kid Blink appeared to be sketching something and Spot was chewing his bottom lip...the kid really couldn't stand the noise...Specs was reading something, Walking Mouth was writing something and Skittery was STILL BANGING.
Racetrack looked over at him. "Do you take requests?" he asked sarcastically, snapping his cards.
To all of our surprises, Skittery calmly shook his head yes.
Not to be left looking like a moron, Racetrack smirked and said "Baby Got Back."
And to all our amazement, Baby Got Back...well, played...
Racetrack's eyes widened.
"Lose Yourself."
Done.
"Stacys Mom!"
"Dude, that sucks," Kid Blink said, but Skittery played it anyway.
"Don't You Forget About Me!" I shouted out. Everybody stared and I sighed. "The theme from the Breakfast Club? Hello?"
And of course Skittery knew it.
"The Anthem," shouted Spot.
"You like Good Charlotte?"
"Shut up."
And he played it.
So now everybody started in.
"Far Away."
"Calendar Hanged Itself!"
"Heart Shaped Box!"
"Strawberry Fields!"
"Go Beatles!"
"Yeah!"
Skittery played everything perfectly and we actually forgot to hate each other for that last hour of detention.
And when Miss. Larksen came to yell at us and tell us to go home, it seemed hard to leave.
I mean, who could hate someone who plays Beatles as well as he...
End Chapter Two
A.N: Yeah, that was shorter than I expected and took me much longer than I thought it would to type...SO Detention Two next chapter, along with Mush/Blink, Specs/Dutchy yay. I hope you all keep reading...BYE
-!-Alarice-!-
A.N: Hope you guys like it...
Detention- 8:03 A.M
Davin Simmons
a.k.a
Dutchy
Nine other guys were in the room when I arrived. Nine other guys with varying degrees of annoyance on their faces...three of which looked like they were going to kill someone...
I stood in the doorway for a few minutes, trying to figure out where to sit- next to the one wearing a cowboy hat or the one drumming out Young and Hopeless out with two pencils...Oh decisions...
"You seem to enjoy being late." I jumped slightly, hearing that familiar screeching voice that is Miss. Larksen come from behind me.
She was glaring at me, temporarily blinding my eyes with her new outfit of neon pink on purple.
"Go sit!" she snapped, pointing to a seat. I followed her finger mutely, avoiding looking at my fellow inmates.
"Now," she said, trying very hard to be intimidating and failing. "You all know why you're here." She started walking about the semi-circle of desks, talking away some kid's deck of cards and slapping the pens away from the drumming boy. Don't worry, he kept the beat with his hands.
"Hoodlums. Creating problems for the school! Each of you have FIVE MONTHS to think about what you did...with the exception of one who shall remain NAMELESS who may be coming here for the rest of his High School career!" she glared here which brought a snort out of a feminine looking boy.
"You have four hours to sit here and reflect upon your horrible actions. No talking, no eye contact, no-"
"Breathing?"
"Any PROBlems," she said, pointedly staring at the boy she had taken the cards from "And I will make sure you're punished further. If anything's WRONG, I will make sure you're PUNISHED. If you even think about creating problems for anybody outside of this room I will make sure you are-"
"Punished?"
"NO MONKEY BUSSINESS!" And with that she turned on her stilettos, tripped and fell out the door.
Cards shook his head. "Dumbass."
We all sat and stared at one another. Well, Girly was kind of glaring and one terrified looking kid seemed amazingly interested with his shoes.
Silence fell.
Well, silence with the exception of the constant banging of pens to the rhythm of Only the Good Die Young.
"Oh my GOD don't you ever shut UP?" It seemed as though Girly had already snapped.
Drummer shook his head no and switched to Lithium.
"JESUS!" I cowered in my seat...that little guy was scary...
Er, I mean...yeah he really was though.
"Five to one Spot kills Skittery, who's bettin'?" Cards' words were followed by "Nah, bust." Spot? Skittery...?
"Shut up RACEtrack!" shouted the one called Spot, losing all feminine qualities (...well, most of them anyway) "Don't pretend it ain't botherin' you too."
Racetrack (?!) raised an eyebrow at Spot and shrugged.
"I guess some people are more irritable than others."
"Shut up."
"You shut up."
"It's a free country."
"My fist up your ass should change your opinion."
"Shut up!"
"Both of you SHUT UP."
"You shut up Cowboy!"
I looked over to the boy who had decided to join the shut up game. He was the one wearing a cowboy hat, red bandanna and a pissed off expression on his face.
I heard someone mutter next to me and looked. It was a dark haired guy with two huge front teeth. Cowboy's head snapped to him.
"What was that, THIEF?"
"First of all, if you're going to insult me, I'm SNITCH," he said sarcastically. "And I said I can't believe I'm going to be stuck here for five mother fucking months with you annoying bastards!"
Silence again, except for a new rendition of Kryptonite.
"SHUT UP SKITTERY!" shouted Spot, Racetrack and Jack at once.
"Don't tell him to shut up!"
"You shut up, Thief!"
"SNITCH!!!"
"Oh my GOD SHUT UP!"
"How monotonous can we get."
A new, dry voice added itself to the group, spoken by a handsome boy with tight, curly hair and glasses.
"You shut up, Specs."
"Only if you do it first."
"I'LL NEVER SHUT UP!!!!"
"Guys, if we don't tone it down Miss. Larksen'll come and get us into more trouble!"
"Shut up Walking Mouth."
A boy with dark, curled hair and big blue eyes glared at Cowboy. "I resent that nickname and would prefer it if you referred to me by my given name, David."
Jack rolled his eyes at the ceiling and slumped down in his chair. "I need a cigarette."
Spot snorted. "You mean a cancer stick?"
"No, I mean a CIGARETTE."
I rolled my eyes and put my head in my arms. I was stuck with a bunch of strangers who, apparently, had no real name and, by the looks of things, hated one another!
Somebody put me out of my misery.
"What Blondy, got a problem?"
I shook my head without looking up to see who had spoken.
Too scared.
"Is that his name?"
"I don't know, is Cowboy yours?"
"You know what I mean, dumbass."
"Fuck you."
"Right back atcha."
I felt somebody prod my back and turned my head. Doey brown eyes stared at me.
"What's your nickname?" he asked softly, gaining attention from the dueling assholes.
"Da...Davin," I stuttered out, surprised. Nobody at this God Forsaken school had spoken to me for a week...
I heard a snort and turned to look at Skittery. "Think my name's funny?" I snapped, feeling my ears turn pink...yeah, it was...
He nodded, still tapping something out with various body parts.
"You don't have a nickname?" I turned to the Eye Patching wearing kid and shook my head no.
"What are you, popular?" Spot asked with disgust. Another shake.
"I'm new."
"A FRESHman?"
"No, Junior."
"Why the hell'd you transfer High School in Junior year?"
I shrugged, not wanting to tell these strangers my life story.
"You assholes scared him," came the calm voice of Specs.
I snapped my head up.
"I'm not scared," I said defiantly.
Spot glared at me and I jumped a little bit.
Eye Patch shook his head. "People call me Kid Blink and I believe they call Shy Guy Mush."
Mush nodded for confirmation, avoiding all possible eye contact.
"I don't know those guys' real names, only nicknames. We got them because we're loners, the misfits-"
Spot interrupted him.
"Oh GOD I feel like we're in the Morning Club."
"BREAKFAST Club, dumbass."
"Whatever, that movie sucked AND swallowed."
"No it didn't, it was one of the most original and-"
"Boring?"
"Shut up!"
"You shut up!"
"It's getting old!"
"Oh mign god, ga ik deden," I muttered, pulling my head into my arms again. "Waarom niet houden zij enkel op, die ondraaglijke ezels." There was a silence in the room.
"What the HELLLL did you just say?"
I looked up to see nine pairs of eyes staring at me, some with open mouths.
Talk about deer in the headlights.
"Nothing."
"Was that in English?"
"...yes..."
"No it wasn't."
"That was Dutch, was it not?"
Nine heads swerved towards David.
"Y-yes...how did you know?"
David shrugged. "It sounded like Dutch."
"How the hell do YOU know Dutch?" asked Spot in disgust.
David sighed. "First of all I never said I know Dutch, just that it sounded like it. And second of all, I'm a genius, remember? Always spitting out facts? WALKING MOUTH?"
Spot just snorted and rolled his eyes.
"You can speak Dutch?" a shy voice asked me. I looked over to see the Mush kid staring at me.
I slowly nodded my head. "I was born in Holland...I came to America when I was twelve."
"And now you're..."
"Sixteen."
"Why don't you got an accent?" Spot asked from across the room.
"Have..." I heard Specs mutter, still "reading" his book.
I shrugged. I don't know...I guess I adapted really well or something."
"I heard your nickname."
Everybody turned to look at Skittery, who had subsided his banging to a mere tapping of his foot.
"You talk?" Racetrack asked sarcastically.
Skittery chose to ignore him.
"They called you Dutchy. Because they heard you tell the Spanish class you speak fluent Dutch."
I shrugged. Hey, could be worse.
I could've been Blondie...
Detention 11:12 A.M
Jacob Rivera
a.k.a
Snitch
"Ugh, what the hell time is it?!"
"Go get a watch."
"How much longer?!"
"Should've brought a book."
"I'm bored enough already."
"Fuck you."
"No, fuck YOU!"
I resisted the urge to band my head repeatedly against my desk into unconsciousness. Three hours later and it seemed the "shut up" game had turned into the "fuck you" game!
I looked around at my fellow "criminals". Jack was fiddling with the edges of his bandanna, looking like he was going into nicotine withdrawal. Not a surprise as he was usually seem with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth...Racetrack had taken another pack of cards out and kept shuffling them, over and over, making almost as much noise as Skittery and causing Spot's eye to twitch. Mush looked like he was counting cracks in the floor while Dutchy seemed to enjoy the taste of his fingernails...disgusting...Kid Blink appeared to be sketching something and Spot was chewing his bottom lip...the kid really couldn't stand the noise...Specs was reading something, Walking Mouth was writing something and Skittery was STILL BANGING.
Racetrack looked over at him. "Do you take requests?" he asked sarcastically, snapping his cards.
To all of our surprises, Skittery calmly shook his head yes.
Not to be left looking like a moron, Racetrack smirked and said "Baby Got Back."
And to all our amazement, Baby Got Back...well, played...
Racetrack's eyes widened.
"Lose Yourself."
Done.
"Stacys Mom!"
"Dude, that sucks," Kid Blink said, but Skittery played it anyway.
"Don't You Forget About Me!" I shouted out. Everybody stared and I sighed. "The theme from the Breakfast Club? Hello?"
And of course Skittery knew it.
"The Anthem," shouted Spot.
"You like Good Charlotte?"
"Shut up."
And he played it.
So now everybody started in.
"Far Away."
"Calendar Hanged Itself!"
"Heart Shaped Box!"
"Strawberry Fields!"
"Go Beatles!"
"Yeah!"
Skittery played everything perfectly and we actually forgot to hate each other for that last hour of detention.
And when Miss. Larksen came to yell at us and tell us to go home, it seemed hard to leave.
I mean, who could hate someone who plays Beatles as well as he...
End Chapter Two
A.N: Yeah, that was shorter than I expected and took me much longer than I thought it would to type...SO Detention Two next chapter, along with Mush/Blink, Specs/Dutchy yay. I hope you all keep reading...BYE
-!-Alarice-!-