They probably start to panic when a student is outsmarting them and putting them on the spot. Their brain will go in overdrive. Error error error. Brainfarts everywhere. They feel the seconds ticking away and start sweating profusely.
                              
Then they just yell one random thing. Detention. It's like teachers are programmed to say that word whenever they think they can't win.
                              
Why not admit defeat? Pride. They're supposed to be the adults.
                              
Students shouldn't overpower teachers.
                              
I agree at some level but the least they can do is talk or reason with us first before yelling that dreadful word. I like a good debate.
                              
Teachers do too. Just not when it's not part of the curriculum.
                              
So that was Ben's reason for today. Farts.
                              
There were a couple of other kids at the back but they kept quiet most of the time.
                              
I'd had high hopes for this week but sadly it had been boring as hell. Some people congratulated Code and me for what we did to Tasha. Other people looked at us as if they were afraid we'd do the same to them.
                              
Like we'd randomly spray people with foul things. Come on! You gotta save the good stuff for when it's necessary. I'm not gonna waste it on random people.
                              
Plus, the smell isn't something I particularly enjoy.
                              
On Wednesday I went to dad's to dork out on his law books for my hi온라인카지노게임 project. I'd always known why I didn't do homework. It's not fun. At all.
                              
But I guess it was cute seeing my dad with a proud look in his eyes when I'd asked him about his books. The way he'd looked was borderline creepy.
                              
Anyway, moving on.
                              
When I was ready to head back home I'd heard Kate yell. She was sitting on the couch and patting the seat next to her.
                              
So I decided to be a good girl and sit next to her. We hadn't talked lately so I guess it was time to catch up. Kate looked like she had something to say to me.
                              
When I sat down she didn't waste anytime at all.
                              
"I swear, Jill, Tasha still smells! What was that thing anyway? I can't stand being around her anymore! Well, I can't really stand her anyway but you know, now it's worse."
                              
She was almost jumping up and down. Her smile was very big and I chuckled at her giddy expression.
                              
I'd guessed by the look on her face the day of the incident that Kate was secretly enjoying the prank but I'd always thought they were friends. I mean, I get it, Tasha's not a ray of sunshine and Kate is kinda awesome for being a popular.
                              
Don't tell her I said that.
                              
"That's the standard punishment when people call me a slut" I shrugged. It definitely wasn't the standard punishment but I doubt people would ever call me a slut again. At least not to my face. Or written on my locker.
                              
Nobody vandalizes my own locker but me. Have some respect people.
                              
The moment I'd said slut Kate's smile disappeared.
                              
"I'm sorry about that. I knew she was up to something but she wouldn't tell me because we're friends" Kate still hadn't learned that I don't get angry easily.
                              
Despite people thinking I'm an angry person, I'm not. I mean, yes, everyone gets angry sometimes but I don't have anger issues at all.
                              
I wasn't even angry at Tasha for writing on my locker. And I definitely had no reason whatsoever to be angry at Kate. Did she think she was collateral damage just because she associated herself with Tasha? Seems a bit ridiculous to me. She's her own person.