“Don’t worry about it, Sam... You know that, do worry about it!” Delilah had been trying to persuade me for the last ten minutes to not worry about the detention we were both now to experience with Mr. Way. Finally, however, she had given up, “I mean this is Mr. Way we’re talking about. For all I know, he wants us to murder someone! Oh man, I should have known better than to send notes during class!”

I wasn’t really paying attention to Delilah. And being honest, I wasn’t worried about detention. I don’t know Mr. Way like she does. I’m not completely sure on his personality, therefore, I don’t have the slightest clue on how tonight was gonna go.

We had been waiting in the classroom for Mr. Way return. I wasn’t sure where he went or what he went to collect, but I was sure it was something for detention. I watched as Delilah sat nervously, biting her small nails.

Finally, Mr. Way returned and I furrowed my eyebrows when he came back with nothing. He stared at the two of us before settling his gaze on a nervous Delilah, “Miss. Sutton is waiting for you in her room. I’ve told her exactly what to do with you and when your detention will end. If I find out you went against my orders...” He didn’t finish his sentence, “Now go, you know where her room is.”

Delilah quickly gathered her things before scurrying out the room and down the empty halls. Mr. Way then shifted his gaze onto me, “As for you, you will stay with me. As you’re new here, it’s important you know my rules and learn them quickly. Of course, if you had listened to other students, you wouldn’t have been stupid enough to get yourself in detention in the first place... Follow me,” He ordered.

Just like Delilah, I quickly gathered my things and followed Mr. Way along the hall, always a few steps behind him. He never looked back to check I was with him.

I followed him all the way to the reception of the high school. He stopped at the desk where the overly enthusiastic receptionist, Mrs. Hudgens, sat, typing away at her computer. None of those behind the desk looked up at Mr. Way and I guessed, if he was a horrible that others say he is, that he had told them not to.

“What I want you to do is to clean every bathroom in this school... I know you won’t finish it tonight which is why I’ve extended your detention until you’re finished... The last student I set this for took nearly three weeks to finish.” Mr. Way shook his head in disapproval as I stared stunned, “I hope you won’t be such a disappointment and will finish this quicker. Oh, and I am also making you clean out the boys bathrooms as well.” Mr. Way then bent down and picked up a bright yellow bucket I hadn’t noticed was there before, “Here you go. Start with theirs.” He pointed to Mrs. Hudgens and the rest of the receptionists before walking away passed me, “I’ll be back in an hour.”

Only ten minutes into my detention, and I was already sickened by the mess people let these get in to. I scrubbed hard on the tile flooring forever trying to remove a black mark which showed no sign of vanishing, “This sucks. Why me? I didn’t really do anything wrong. Damn Mr. Way, taking his stupid anger out on everyone else.” I mumbled to myself as I scrubbed harder. I almost cried out in frustration when I realized the dark stain was never coming out.

When the hour had finally ended, Mr. Way met me outside the bathroom I had moved on to. Within the hour, I managed to clean two female bathrooms. It was horrible, so awful. The only good thing that came out of it was that they were now clean.

“Well done, Samantha. I’ll see you the same time on Monday.” He took the bucket from me before walking away again.

I was so annoyed by tonight’s detention and so tired from the cleaning that I snapped at my Art teacher. For as long as I could remember, I had hated the name Samantha and demanded that people call me Sam or Sammy. Though now, I don’t really like the name Sammy, either. I’m sure what it was, but one day I woke up and just hated Samantha.

“Okay, my name’s Sam, not Samantha!” I snapped.

Mr. Way spun around and stared at me with wide eyes, “Excuse me?” He asked his voice loud, “I am very aware of your name Miss. Phillips.”

I took a deep breath. Keep going. I told myself, “It’s clear that you’re not. I don’t like to be called Samantha. It’s Sam... Please.”

Mr. Way shook his head, “Don’t tell me what to do, Samantha –“

“It’s Sam, Mr. Way. I do not like the name Samantha,” I repeated, stressing my point.

Mr. Way shrugged as a sarcastic grin spread across his face, “And I don’t like you so let’s leave it at that.” He replied before turning away from me yet again.

My jaw dropped as I still stood outside the bathrooms, “That was really immature.” I said to myself as I walked in the opposite direction out of the school.

How was it possible that Mr. Way became a teacher? How he acted was really immature and childish. He appeared depressed and angry all the time. But what I had noticed more with each Art class was that a lot of his anger was meant for me. And I didn’t like it at all.

I thought starting a new school would be exciting and fun and a wonderful experience, but now I’m starting to see that I was wrong. Sure, my other classes were fine, but with Mr. Way as my Art teacher, my time at this school was growing more terrible.

I wanted to find out what his problem with me was, even if it got me into more trouble. I wasn’t going to let him treat me or any other student like the way he did. And it starts on Monday.

But first, I was going to enjoy the gig tomorrow night with my friends.