Detention, But Worse
Lux should have known this day was going to be a disaster the moment the school’s intercom crackled to life during fourth period.
“Luxanna Crownguard and Jinx, report to Principal Laurent’s office immediately.”
A hush fell over the classroom. Lux, sitting in her usual front-row seat, stiffened as every single head in the room turned toward her. The weight of their stares settled on her shoulders, and the whispers began instantly.
“What did Lux do?”
“Jinx? Oh, this is gonna be bad.”
“Imagine getting called in with her? I’d just drop out.”
Lux felt her stomach twist. She had never—not once—been called to the principal’s office in her life. She was a model student, straight A’s, honor roll, star athlete. She followed every rule, stayed out of trouble, and kept her head down. So why, exactly, was she being lumped in with Jinx of all people?
She swallowed hard, forcing her expression into something neutral. She would not give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her confusion. Without a word, she collected her things, rose from her chair, and made her way toward the door. The whispers followed her all the way out.
The walk to the office felt unnaturally long. With each step, her mind raced through every possibility. Had there been some mistake in her grades? Had she accidentally violated some obscure school rule? But no—none of that explained why Jinx had been called in too.
Lux wasn’t sure what was worse: not knowing what she’d done, or knowing she’d soon be in the same room as the most chaotic student in the school.
When she arrived at the office, the secretary barely glanced up. “Take a seat. Principal Laurent will see you soon.”
Lux nodded stiffly and lowered herself into one of the hard plastic chairs lining the hallway. The office smelled faintly of old books and the kind of industrial cleaning products that never quite erased the scent of teenage anxiety. A clock ticked loudly on the wall. The sound filled the quiet, the kind that made every second feel stretched out, exaggerated.
She sat there, alone. And waited.
Minutes dragged by, and no one came to get her. Worse, Jinx hadn’t shown up either.
Lux folded her hands in her lap, resisting the urge to fidget. The silence gave her too much time to think. Maybe she was about to be accused of something ridiculous. Maybe there had been some massive misunderstanding. Maybe Jinx had actually done something terrible, and Lux had somehow been dragged into it by association.
Her fingers curled into fists in her lap. This was unfair. She had spent years building her perfect reputation, and now—
The office door swung open. Lux sat up straighter, hoping for an answer, but it was just a sophomore being sent back to class. The clock ticked on.
Jinx was still nowhere to be seen.
Lux huffed, glancing toward the secretary. “Excuse me. Should I—?”
Before she could finish, the door to the school’s main entrance banged open, and Jinx finally strolled in.
Five minutes late.
She sauntered up to the desk like she had all the time in the world, her usual half-lidded smirk in place. She wore the school’s uniform completely wrong—tie undone, blazer slung over one shoulder, and the sleeves of her button-up rolled to the elbows. Her hair was in two messy braids that looked like they hadn’t been redone in days, strands of blue slipping free.
“Yo,” Jinx said lazily, tapping on the desk. “I got summoned.”
The secretary sighed, barely looking up. “Principal Laurent is waiting for you.”
Jinx grinned. “Bet she is.”
Then, she turned her attention to Lux.
Lux kept her expression carefully neutral, but her shoulders tensed involuntarily as Jinx plopped down into the seat next to her, stretching her legs out like she was settling in for a nap. The smirk never left her face, eyes glinting with mischief as she sized Lux up like she was trying to figure out exactly how much she could push her.
Lux ignored her. Or tried to. It wasn’t easy when Jinx’s whole presence was this… loud, even in silence.
Jinx spun a pen between her fingers absently. No—not just spinning. Lux couldn’t help but watch as she flicked it fluidly across her knuckles, the motion effortless, hypnotic. She wasn’t even looking at it. Just moving, constant, precise.
Lux forced her gaze away. She had never really looked at Jinx before. Like, really looked. Everyone knew who she was—the unhinged scholarship student who got away with everything, the one who was just a little too intimidating to be bullied. And sure, she was weird, but if she wasn’t, if she actually put in any effort… she could be popular. Easily. Her features were sharp and striking, and even though her hair was a complete disaster, Lux had to admit the blue was kind of cool. Not that she’d ever say that out loud.
Jinx caught her staring. Her smirk widened. “Like what you see, Crownguard?”
Lux scoffed, snapping her gaze to the front of the office. “Hardly.”
Jinx snickered. “Sure, sure.”
The door to the principal’s office creaked open.
“Come in,” Principal Laurent called.
Lux rose immediately, stepping inside with a practiced grace that belied the way her heart was pounding. She was ready to clear up whatever this was and get back to class.
Jinx strolled in behind her, taking her time, like she couldn’t care less if she was here or not.
Principal Laurent sat behind her large oak desk, hands folded in front of her. She was an imposing woman, sharp-eyed and efficient, with an expression that could make even the most reckless student reconsider their life choices. The office itself was neat and severe, filled with neatly stacked papers and the lingering scent of coffee.
“Miss Crownguard. Miss Jinx.”
Lux straightened. Jinx threw herself into the chair across from the principal and propped her boots up on the desk like she belonged there.
Lux clenched her jaw. Unbelievable.
The principal gave Jinx a flat look. Jinx grinned but, after a long pause, finally lowered her feet.
“Do you know why you’re here?” Principal Laurent asked.
“Nope,” Jinx answered immediately. “But if it’s about the vending machine incident, I was definitely framed. And if it’s about the fire alarm thing, technically that was Ekko’s fault—”
“Jinx.”
Jinx let her chair thud onto four legs, smirking. “Fine. What’d I do this time?”
Lux sat up straighter, keeping her tone polite. “Principal Laurent, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I think there’s been a mistake. I—”
Laurent held up a hand, stopping her. “You’ll see.”
She slid two papers across the desk. “Jinx, you’re failing every class. The school board is ready to pull your scholarship and prevent you from graduating.”
Jinx let out a slow whistle, spinning the pen again. This time she tossed it into the air, caught it between her fingers without even looking, and kept spinning.
Lux hated that she noticed how smooth the motion was.
“Sweet,” Jinx said, stretching her arms behind her head. “So what, you finally gonna let me drop out?”
“No.” The principal’s expression didn’t change. “Because you’re not the only student in trouble.”
Lux blinked. Excuse me?
“As for you, Miss Crownguard,” Laurent continued, “you’ve somehow managed to complete your entire academic career here without fulfilling a single art credit. And last I checked, even straight-A students don’t graduate without meeting the school’s requirements.”
Lux felt her stomach drop. “I—I thought I had enough—”
“You do not,” Laurent said. “However, I’m offering you both a solution.” She folded her hands on the desk. “Jinx, if you pass your classes this semester, your scholarship stays. Lux, if you complete one semester of an approved art credit, you meet your graduation requirements.”
Lux exhaled, trying to stay composed. “Okay, but what does that have to do with—”
“You two will be working together,” the principal said, already anticipating the question. “Lux, you will tutor Jinx in every subject until she gets passing grades. In return, Jinx, you will mentor Lux in an independent study art course. You’re one of the most talented artists in the school—when you actually show up—so this is my compromise.”
There was silence. Then Jinx let out a sharp laugh.
“You want me to help her?” she wheezed, pointing at Lux. “Oh, man, I’d love to see Little Miss Perfect try to survive one day in my world.”
Lux’s patience snapped.
“Are you serious?!” she burst out, turning on Jinx. “I have worked my entire high school career for a perfect record, and now I’m stuck depending on you?!”
Jinx’s pen froze between her fingers. She stared at Lux with wide, surprised eyes—like she hadn’t expected that.
Lux immediately sucked in a breath, straightened her back, and forced her voice back to neutral. “I mean—” She cleared her throat. “I just… I don’t think this arrangement makes sense, Principal Laurent.”
Jinx blinked once. Then a slow, intrigued smirk curled her lips.
“Wow,” she drawled, finally twirling the pen again. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Crownguard.”
Lux ignored her. Ignored the way Jinx suddenly seemed more interested, the way her gaze flickered with amusement like she’d just discovered something entertaining.
And definitely ignored the way she was still spinning that stupid pen.
It was fluid, constant, so effortlessly smooth that Lux found her eyes flickering to it despite herself. The way Jinx’s fingers moved was… impressive.
Lux pressed her lips together, staring at it, waiting for the right moment—
Then, as Jinx flicked it up for a final spin, Lux shifted in her seat just enough to bump the desk with her knee.
The pen slipped.
It clattered onto the floor.
Jinx blinked at it, caught off guard, before she shot Lux a suspicious look.
Lux just folded her hands neatly in her lap and smiled. “Oops.”
Principal Laurent sighed heavily. “You two will meet four times a week. If either of you skips, you both fail. End of discussion. Now get out of my office.”
Lux stood up immediately, stiff with frustration. “Thank you for your time, Principal Laurent.” She turned on her heel, heading for the door without looking at Jinx.
Jinx, of course, took her time, stretching before sauntering after her. As she passed, she retrieved her pen from the floor and spun it again, this time keeping a closer grip on it.
“Looking forward to it, partner,” she said with a grin.
Lux groaned under her breath. This was going to be hell.