Realistic or Modern ✗Don't Judge a Book By Its Cover✗

[Sea]

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✗Don't Judge a Book By Its Cover✗ - A simple afterschool sentence forms unlikely friendships

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rep·u·ta·tion


ˌrepyəˈtāSHən//(n.)


noun: reputation; plural noun: reputations


1. a widespread belief that someone or something has a particular habit or characteristic...

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Put the word "kite" somewhere in your post in blue font so I know you've read everything


rep·u·ta·tion


ˌrepyəˈtāSHən//(n.)


noun: reputation; plural noun: reputations


1. a widespread belief that someone or something has a particular habit or characteristic


It's easy for someone to feel suffocated in high school; the society, the culture, the changing evolution of the newest generation...it's a bit overwhelming. It's even harder when your misrepresented reputation becomes the cause of strangers outside of your personal circle looking at you a certain way or disregarding you in a certain way.


You are no more less than them. So, why?


Set in New York, a small group of teenagers are being detained afterschool for at least a few months (if not the rest of the school year), punished for something wrong (whether they actually did it or not). They're forced to be together in the same room, each completely unique and different in background and social class. And each of them have some sort of bad/negative rep outside of their social group and personal circle of friends (if they have any). It's not hard to see why they would dislike each other...but unexpectedly, they bond. But being together could affect their already very fragile reputations and foce them out of their comfort zones.

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[Sea]

((@Lost Girl Maddie @Oasis -We're starting c)

​

3:00 PM: THE REBEL//RACHEL HART

((outfit, but without the sunglasses))
​

Rachel slammed her locker shut...hard. A guy next to her jumped at the sudden noise and she huffed before snapping on the lock, slinging her bookbag over one shoulder. She muttered an apology, but the guy had quickly run off. She leaned back against her locker, turning to her two friends who were there for "moral support". Honestly, they were there for pure entertainment and to make sure she went to her detention. "You'll be fine, Chellie," one of them laughed. "You're tough." They teased her often, calling her a rebel, tough, daredevil, all in spite. They knew she wasn't as fast and dangerous as she was made out to be, but that didn't stop their amusement. "Stop it," she said, running a hand through her brown wavy hair before sticking it into her denim jeans' pocket. "This detention isn't even my fault. They just all assumed it was." This was true. A brown haired figure had ridden a motorcycle around the inside of the school, injuring two students and eventually roaring out. The person's identity was cleverly concealed, but of course, all blame fell on the school's daredevil. The other friend smirked. "Whatever. At least you'll have a chance to clear your name with the people who are in detention with you."


"Shut up, I'm not talking to any one of those people," she responded, glancing at the clock before shooing them away. Her detention started in five minutes, so she could take her time getting there. She checked her bookbag to make sure she had all her books, smoothed down her leather jacket, and walked straight into the detention room. As usual, the clipboard where they were supposed to check in with was on the teacher's desk at the front of the room. Also usual, there was no teacher. Their school was short staffed, especially during after school hours. So they were left alone, with the rules being not allowed to do anything and to just rot away until the day's detention session was over. However, teachers took turns popping in randomly, and the history teacher whose classroom was right next to theirs, could probably hear if things got wild. Kids weren't even allowed to do homework, which would've been a great outlet for boredom. The only thing the kid could do was an assignment assigned by the teacher or staff member that had given them detention, but it all depended on the the adult.


She walked into the room and with a quick flick of her wrist, signed her name next to her spot on the attendance sheet. Satisfied, she took her favorite seat in any classroom with five rows of seats: middle of the third row. It was right in the center, where no teacher ever looked. They often looked at the back, front, or borders. Hidden in the crowd of teenage hair and skin, she could easily slouch down a little and avoided unwanted attention. However, if she were ever to need to earn participation, she could raise her hand and be directly in the middle of the teacher's vision of sight. It was an ideal spot for her, and she had found it worthy to take every single time.


She dropped her bag to the ground next to her and glanced at the clock overhead. Great. Less time to spend doing stuff, and more time doing nothing. At least let the people she would be spending detention with be decent, or quiet, or a friend. She wouldn't know what to do if it were anyone else.

 

[DisasterCallingMe]

"Are we still meeting up for dinner, Friday?" This spaz, Drew asked me. I rolled my eyes, but played along with his little make believe date.


"Oh yeah, totally," I responded with a flick of my wrist. "Sorry hun, but right now I have places to be." For good measure, I shot him a quick wink accompanied with a smirk before trotting off, my sandals clapping obnoxiously against the tile floors of our school. The day was just letting out, so teens were rushing from the halls. I slipped through them easily, some of them moving either because they hated me, or heard some rumor about me having an STD. All which was fake, of course. Plenty of rumors spread about me, but so far none of them had made it to the principle, except for the one that landed me in detention. It was partially true, but not really.


This girl, who was your typical cheerleader, started a rumor I was caught giving head to one of the basket ball players she liked in the locker room. Of course, the lie wasn't very well thought out because she wouldn't give up the basket ball players name. In reality, she had just caught us making out and got all butt hurt over it. That is the reason I try to distant myself from clingy bitches.


Making my way into the room where I would be spending numerous amounts of time, I saw that one girl was already occupying a desk. I recognized her from around, but couldn't be bothered by a name.


Grabbing the pen that rested on the desk, I scribbled my name in bubbly cursive on the clipboard and took a seat at the far left near the front of the class. Usually only slackers sat in the back, and since I wasn't one of those, I sat up front. Most teachers could see through my "goody-goody" facade, but I liked to pretend they couldn't. The good kids sat in the front, the ones no one suspected of anything. I needed that reputation with adults in case my parents ever wanted to call in and check up on me, not that they would.


With my elbows on the desk, and chin resting in my hands, I watch as the rest of my peers poured in for detention.

 

[Antlered punk]

Ketchup packets, Gum, Heavy book, Pencils, Googly eyes, Glue, Tape....


Those are the tricks of the trade. The list could go on in all honesty. Kevin was ready with his faked bloody nose or a thumbtack on the seat. Anything to get out of class or make people laugh. Today was the day he was going to get out of detention. "Whatcha goin to do this time?" Jack asked looking at Kevins well stocked locker with an assort ment of tools for pranks and chaos. "Oh you know, stick a penicl up my nose act like I did damage with ketchup and go to the nurse."


Friends nodding eith his clever idea. He grabbed a fewcans of soda and his smokes. "Later chumps, or more like see ya later"


Snickering he ran his hand through his choppy blonde hair making it way down the hall. Getting a thumb tack out of the pack, having it ready to be placed on the teachers seat. also two googly eyes just in case.


Once in side he scanned the room and smirked, he's gonna make these he's gonna make these chumps laugh. Signing his name then the second spot "Semore Butts" with googly eyes next to it. Smiling happily to his own joke He sat three rows back near the window.