You are now Phaedra.
You're currently leaning against the wall with your left arm draped on top of the back of the chair. Your bottom is firmly planting in said chair, while your black combat boots are casually resting in the chair next to you. It also just happens to be the only other chair available for sitting in this office, and it also just so happens that a kid just walked in. He's refusing to look at you, nose pointed defiantly at the ceiling and arms crossed to maintain even a sliver of dignity. You know his type, and it pretty much sickens you, only not to the extent that most would think. He's wearing a pair of black and blue striped skinny jeans, which you'll admit that you're jealous of, a black sweater, and an abundance of jewelry. Like, far more than any guy should be wearing. He's wearing thick framed black glasses, which are completely unnecessary in size, but you still think their cool.
The sweater is a bit strange, considering it's freaking August, but it's no stranger than that purple streak in his black hair. You can understand why someone would want to dye their hair, considering yours is cobalt blue, but why just one streak? Why down the direct center? You smirk in his direction as you muse on what you should do to him. Maybe make his life a living hell while he's in here? There's really nothing better to do, considering the vice principal hasn't even shown his face yet. Dr. Scratch is the one who handles delinquents such as yourself, not Cal: he just yells and bitches about nonsense.
You look the boy up and down, openly checking him out and kind of liking what you see. If he didn't present himself as such a dick, you'd go so far as to call him sexy. Although, because of his apparent indifference, he is no longer sexy: he's sexy as fuck. You'll admit, there's a certain allure to complete assholes. Just look at Samantha!
"Hey, you with the purple hair," you call out, resisting the urge to stand up and extend your hand in an attempt to upset him further, "what are you in for?"
He looks at you with obvious disgust, eyes skimming over your form as he takes you in. You chuckle and shift in your seat a little, subtly opening your legs just a bit. He doesn't seem to notice, but does snort once he's done looking you over. This only encourages you to irritate him further.
"Like what ya see? Cause I don't mind letting ya see more," you tease, blatantly flirting with him right in front of Ms. Paint. From the corner of your eyes you see her giggle, bringing a hand up to cover her smile. You grin proudly as the mystery boy visibly tenses up, tightening his arms around his waist like he's trying to rip himself in half. Like fuck, could somebody actually rip themselves in half?
"Ugh, disgustin' filth," he says, more to himself than to you. His petty insult makes you laugh: just how rude can a guy be?
"Oh don't flatter yourself honey, I was just joking anyway," you tell him, feigning agitation with an eye roll, "but seriously. Why are you here?"
"That's none a' ya business, delinquent," he scoffs, pulling his gaze away from yours and staring straight ahead. You almost bust up laughing at his response because it just proved your earlier assumption. This guy, whoever he is, is completely full of himself! Ugh, why are the hot ones always bastards?
"You're in here too, so that makes YOU a delinquent as well moron. Or are you just too perfect to be considered something so vile?" you mock, tacking on a superficial voice as you speak. Your annoyance is only betrayed by the amused smile dancing across your features, but you can't help it. This guy was just too easy, and you just know today is going to be fun. He turns to face you again with a deep scowl, narrowing his eyes and storming towards you until his face is inches away from yours, and not in an ideal way. You instinctually lean backwards a little, realizing that you may have crossed a line here. Besides, maybe his reason for being here was super personal for him?
"Listen bitch. You wwanna knoww wwhy I'm here, huh? I'm here because I just beat the fuck outta my ex-girlfriends boyfriend, and unless you wwanna suffer the same bullshit, then I suggest you shut the fuck up," he seethes in an angry whisper, voice dangerously low. Rather than tease him like you usually would, or cower like most would, you move your legs out of the chair so he can sit and sympathize with him. He says nothing and takes the offered seat, once again avoiding your eyes entirely.
"Hey, the name's Phaedra Ellistin. Sorry about being such a douche I guess, but I can relate to the whole ex bullshit. I'm here cause I kicked my ex-girlfriends ass at lunch. To be honest though, she totally had it coming. She cheated on me three times and fucked with my sister, spitting on her face and shit. That didn't really sit well with me, and I wish I could've hurt her even more than I did. Then Cal had to interrupt just cause he's a dick, er, I mean 'Principal Caliborn'. I call him Cal cause it pisses him off," you explain, strangely ok with telling a stranger all this. You were always kind of an open person.
The boy just grunts and crosses his legs, placing his hands on his knee and looking poise as fuck. He's even straightening his back, while you're over here just slouching and shit. Sophistication HAS always eluded you, but you like to think you make up for it by being endearing.
"What's your name?" you ask, attempting to converse again. You figure it's a simple enough question, there's no way he'll find any offense to it even if he IS a super defensive person.
"Eridan Ampora, but you can go ahead and nevver call me that, seein' as wwe wwon't be talkin after this EVVER," he says, maintaining his poise and lack of eye contact. Damn, this guy was really good at being a dick.
"Why'd you beat up her boyfriend, Ampora?" you question, deciding to use his name anyway. What else are you supposed to call him? Hipster asshole would just piss him off even more!
"Cause he's a fuckin' geek, and I said don't bother usin' my fuckin' name. Actually, just stop talkin' to me all together," he orders, nose perfectly aligned with the ceiling again. You sigh and look over at Ms. Paint for assistance. She just gives you a small smile and takes a sip of her coffee, silently offering her condolences. See, even the secretary is all sophisticated and junk, and then here you are: already upsetting someone you just met. You're about to ask him something else, which would probably only make matters worse, but it seems that Dr. Scratch has finally decided to join you.
The door to his office opens and he files out in an all green suit, looking down at his smart phone with fondness. You guess he's texting his wife, a lovely woman he referred to as The Handmaid. It was an odd nickname, but Doc was a strange man. He looks up from his phone stares at you and Ampora, sighing and putting the device in his back pocket. He grins and shakes his head in mock dismay, immediately making the situation a million times better just by being here. He was pretty much the best adult you've ever met: besides your older brother, that is.
"What did you do this time Phaedra?" he asks with mild amusement, standing in front of you and Ampora. You extend a hand to greet him, which he gladly shakes. You retract the appendage and roll your eyes so he knows how you feel about the situation before explaining.
"You remember Samantha, right? Of course you do. Anyway, she spit in my sisters face and threw her down, so I kicked her sorry ass. Troi tried stopping me, but I kind of gave him this super mega death glare so he'd let go of me," you inform him, pretty proud of what you did, "Dude she was fucking bleeding and shit on the floor, it was so damn funny!"
"I'll admit, she did have it coming," Doc agreed, placing a hand on his hip to even out his weight. Beside you, Ampora ruffles a bit and addresses your conversation with malicious intent.
"Wwait, you mean you're fuckin' ok wwith wwhat she did!?" he asks, his voice laced with both surprise and anger. You chuckle and nod your head, allowing Doc to enlighten him. He'd explain it better than you, you're sure of that.
"Me and Phaedra here have a mutual agreement as far as Samantha goes: she is as bitchy as they come," he says, making you laugh, "Not only this, but I've known Phaedra for quite some time now, so her antics don't really bother me. Her intentions are pure, so all is forgiven. Although, she isn't entirely off the hook, seeing as Cal would have my job if I let her go. Phaedra, I am gonna have to call Ayexis. Plus, some detention will probably be in order. How about a week or something? Does that sound fine?"
You nod, although you aren't too happy about him telling your brother, Ayexis (ay-x-ee-is). He would ream your ass for sure, and you're getting real tired of upsetting him, even if your actions were 100% justified.
"Dude, do you really HAVE to call Ayexis? He's gonna get pissed," you say, hoping to change his mind even though you know your efforts are futile. It's school procedure to call home when something happens concerning a student, and as much as you hate it, you wouldn't risk Doc losing his job over it. Begging him not to call is more of a formality than it is anything else.
"You know the rules. Just be glad I'm not suspending you," he jabs in a humorous tone, and you know he'd never do something so crude like suspend you. He cares about you too much to do that, which gives you a very clear advantage over the school's punishments. Now that he's addressed your situation, Doc directs his full attention to Ampora, who looks confused as ever.
"So what's your name and why are you here?" Doc asks, dropping the informal tone and replacing it with something much more business-like. Ampora groans, probably disappointed he won't be getting the same treatment. You decide that the least you can do is help the poor guy out.
"He ain't all that bad Doc, he just got it in with his ex's boyfriend. Just call his parents and give him a week of detention too, seeing as things should be equal and everything," you say, offering your argument in a relaxed tone. Doc just nods and pops his fingers, satisfied that this worked itself out so quickly.
"Well if you say so. You two will have a week of detention, starting tomorrow. Which means yes, you will be present for Saturday and Sunday detention, as well as Monday and Tuesday next week. You two get to clean up after the football game this Friday too, so be ready for that. I'll go call your guardians and have them pick you up. At least then Cal will get off my back about it," he informs both of you, being lenient as all hell right now. It really helps to have none the vice principal for years, like seriously.
He walks off and heads back into his office, dishing out phone calls and names faster than you can say, 'Dude, I am so fucked when my brother gets here'. You turn to Ampora with a triumphant smirk despite how worried you are, figuring he owed you some kind of thank you for what you did. He looks at you with a frown and crosses his arm, abandoning his earlier posture and allowing both feet to rest on the carpeted floor.
"Don't you be getting' any ideas. Just cause you helped me don't mean I owwe ya a damn thing, got it?" he says, pointing at you as he speaks. You smile and quickly shoot your head forward, nipping his finger with your teeth and extracting a small yelp from the boy. He curses under his breath and you swivel, leaning against the wall again and staring at him possessively.
"I wouldn't have it any other way Ampora."
Update took a little longer than planned, what with school and junk, but here ya go: chapter three! From here on out the chapters will take place during their detentions and will alternate POV's.