holy shit so here's what jay's been up to since she left OTTD way back

(NOTE: My friend is creating the first two chapters so this is chapter 3. It, however, is the first chapter in Sorel's POV so you shouldn't miss anything too huge...XD)

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea in the world to use super glue when placing the teacher’s answer sheet to today’s quiz on the ceiling. Probably was not the best idea to consider even doing in the first place. As it happens...I completely forgot where my new seat was and ended up placing it right over my own desk. Smart, right? I didn’t even intend to do that to cheat! I just wanted to stir up a bit of trouble...as usual. Well, anyways. The results of my prank not only took me for a repetitive tour to the evil lair of the principal, but my friend, Chase Peterson, who sat right behind me. Apparently, when the teacher’s pet, James, lied about Chase cheating (I have NO clue how he got to be a teacher’s pet in the first place), she was sent to the Principal’s office and ultimately, detention. I, on the other hand, pretty much volunteered to get out of science class. I wasn’t going to get away with it, as the proof was right over my head, and I didn’t want my pal to suffer alone. Actually, it was more that I didn’t want to listen to the endless drone of the same photosynthesis unit from last year (I barely listened then either).
　　　　My experience with the principal, Mrs. Rudstein, was normally the same as every time before. She describes the crime, I laugh and say “Good times” or something along those lines, I continue to present my excuse and then she gets all angry and pent up, tells me I’m not worth her time, and sends me to detention. She didn’t usually bring up suspension unless I blew something up (which happened more often than not). I was surprised I hadn’t been expelled the first one hundred office visits.
　　　　I entered the office, watching as Pete, which is the nickname I gave to Chase, stormed off towards the restrooms. Pete’s face was lined with shock, fear, and a subtle trace of agitation. I figured her time in Rud’s office had shaken her a bit, but I didn’t think about it too much. I was busy planning my excuse.
　　　　I trotted into the office, confident as I greeted the front desk, who were so used to me by now, they had no need to look up to know who had said hello. I knocked on Rudstein’s doors, waiting for the usual, “come in”, but was instead greeted by the sound of ruffling papers and a muffled, “Hold on.” I grimaced and simply crossed my arms; apparently Rudstein really did go on a rampage. She did that only once out of all the times I went to the office. It was fun to see the shriveled old lady, usually so calm and uptight, run around, throwing everything off her desk in a fury of anger, annoyance, and disdain. Though Pete may have been shaken up, I was thrown into a fit of laughter and then suspended promptly. But it was so worth it.
　　　　The door clicked open and old Mrs.Rudstein ushered me in. Though she tried to hide it, I could tell she had gone nuts. Her hair, to a normal eye, would appear kempt and tidy. To me, I saw that she had hastily shoved her gray hair into a scraggly bun and while normal people saw a nice, pressed work suit, I noticed the unleveled and frayed edges. Not that I really cared. I just noticed these things.
　　　　“Sorel Racer. What a surprise. What was it this time? Cheating I hear?”
　　　　“It may sound that way, but no.” I pushed my wild, auburn hair from my face, “Though I will say that that James kid may have been a bit more interested in the roof than usual.”
　　　　“And whose fault was that?”
　　　　“Mr. Steak pointed it out. So technically it was his fault.” Rudstein rubbed her temple before reading over my list of crimes, which I’m sure were premade lists created by the teachers.
　　　　“Cheating,”
　　　　“In denial,”
　　　　“Theft of property,”
　　　　“Technically, Steak got it off the internet.”
　　　　“One count of insubordination,”
　　　　“Oh come on! How does that one apply?”
　　　　“Two counts.”
　　　　“Be reasonable here!”
　　　　“Three.”
　　　　At this rate, I was going more along the lines of a self-incriminating criminal than a self-defending lawyer. Rudstein riddled off a few more, in which I mostly denied. By the end of the list, I was up to nine counts of insubordination and likely had that many weeks of detention as well. I leaned back in the cushioned chair and looked at the annoyingly familiar trophies lining her office’s wall. Some said “Best Voice” and some said “#1 Hunter”.
　　　　The “Best Voice” trophy I never understood due to her typically raspy, sharp shrill but the “#1 Hunter” trophy made more sense, though it was no moral booster.
　　　　Rudstein flipped open her calendar and then closed it briskly. She smiled at me with her crooked, yellow chompers and then scribbled a few words on her notepad.
　　　　“Well. I see no need to really send you to anymore detentions… as you learn nothing from your experiences and your writings. So… this will be your last detention.” The words seemed excited coming from Rudstein, though I could tell the seriousness of the statement.
She handed me a detention slip and quickly added on, “You’d best soak up this learning experience, because it is likely that you may never come back to this school again.”
　　　　I examined the detention slip closely before folding it up into my pocket. After school, four hours in the science classroom. Ha. Yeah. Sure. Me. In the same room as highly flammable materials for four hours. Smart.
　　　　“Great.” I muttered before taking my leave. Rudstein halted me quickly before I left,
　　　　“Miss Racer. If you see Miss Peterson, please tell her that this detention date is mandatory and must be attended this afternoon.”
　　　　“Why?” I pried as Rudstein began to close the door. Rudstein flashed me her yellow teeth in a manner like a hungry badger and then shut the door fully, leaving me with a slight twinge gutting my stomach from the inside. Something was up and I didn’t like it in the least.
　　　　 ~~~
　　　　Detention was my normal dish, but it wasn’t Pete’s. I couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty as Pete had been in trouble because of my forgetfulness. I glanced at her before pulling out an unused pencil. We were supposed to write a two-thousand word essay about how cheating was wrong and how we were never going anywhere unless we did honest work.
　　　　Yeah. No thank you. I had written essays like those hundreds of times before and I learned the hard way that if you actually did write the essay, the teachers would hold you to the words written on the paper.
　　　　Instead, I took my pencil to the edge of the desk and scratched away at it, throwing my pent up energy into ridding the pencil of its’ yellow skin. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay in the science classroom for over an hour before I caused trouble, but I attempted to restrain myself, the burning memory of Rudstein telling me what would occur if I got in trouble again circulating nervously in my mind. I’d be gone and out of the school. Part of me was excited at the aspect of leaving the school, but the other side of me wanted to stick around for at least another year. I also weighed the fact that I actually liked my foster parents I was currently with and that if I did get expelled, it was likely I was going to have to move and live with another set of people who did not know what they were getting themselves into.
　　　　I rotated the pencil, thoroughly shaving it. Pete looked at me, casting out a questioning glance. She knew the meaning of my little habit, but she remained silent as Mr.Steakberg passed overhead of her, monitoring her essay.
　　　　“You both understand why you’re here, correct?” Steak grumbled from the front of the classroom. I rolled my eyes, already knowing where this conversation was going.
　　　　“Depends. Do you want to hear our side?” I replied, barely audibly. Steak took off his glasses, cleaned them, and then placed them back over his sunken eyes. Last year, Steak had a light brown hair color, but by the end of it, the remaining hair he had had, had gone white.
　　　　Steak sat down, “Sorel, just write your essay.”
　　　　I frowned momentarily before putting the pencil to the blank paper. Four hours to waste and nothing to do. Instead of writing tentatively as Steak wanted me to, I sketched little stick figures.
　　　　First was an accurate, yet comical depiction of Steak wearing a track suit and watching nature documentaries. I followed it up with a small sketch of me chained to the floor. Finally, I filled the rest of the page with a basic layout of the room, planning my potential escape.
　　　　Steak yawned, stretched, and slowly drifted to sleep. I looked towards Pete, who was still working. I got up from my seat and walked over to her, looking over her shoulder before she drew herself closer to block me out.
　　　　“Go away, Sorel.” She hissed under her breath, her dark brown hair splaying across the table the closer she got. Taking her advice, I slunk off towards the direction of the door and gazed out curiously. No one was out there.
　　　　“Yes!” I celebrated quietly. With one more glance at Steak and then Pete, I tried the door handle.
(NOTE: It's chapter three total, but chapter 1 for Sorel's POV. My friend is writing the first two chapters and has yet to release them, however, even if o　
　　　
It was locked and could only be unlocked by keys. I grimaced and then grasped the handle once more, thinking I could use the same trick I had used one time before.
　　　　Focusing, I pictured all the components that made the lock work. I imagined them all moving together to unlock. Everything within the system working together, churning and sliding to my will.
　　　　The lock clicked and I tried the door, but it did not budge.
　　　　Instead, it had not come from my door, but from the door on the other side of the room. Rudstein had come in.
　　　　I pulled my hand back and pulled a piece of scrap paper from my pocket, pretending to have been throwing something away.
　　　　“Sorel. Come sit down.” Rudstein motioned me over towards my seat. I shrugged and returned to the gray chair.
　　　　Rudstein’s entrance had woken Steak from his nap, who jerked up and seemed to squeal. I stifled a laugh before turning my head back down to my scribbled on paper.
　　　　Her eyes locked on to Pete’s and they had a strange, aggravated conversation without even speaking. Rudstein’s eyes were a dark gray as the glared at Pete with an almost murderous curiosity, whilst Pete’s deep brown eyes flashed a determined glint back at the old hag of a woman. There was something far beyond my comprehension occurring, and I wasn’t about to be let out of whatever it was.
　　　　“So,” I broke the awkward silence that had seemed to last minutes, “Exactly what’s up? You usually avoid coming to detentions when you can. Specifically when I’m around.” I started digging, “I thought you had better things to do than care about the well being of students.”
　　　　Rudstein laughed, “Oh I would love to go home and watch some Criminal Minds, but I have some pesky demigods to deal with.”
　　　　“Demi-whats?” I could feel another twinge of nervousness strike at my gut. What was she talking about?
　　　　“I knew it!” Pete leaped to her feet and placed her left hand around her ring, pulling it off. In an instant, her ring changed to a bow and her necklace warped into a quiver.
　　　　Rudstein yowled and withdrew slightly. Her eyes narrowing and her face growing sharper. Within seconds, the almost modern, old lady principal had become a beady-eyed monstrosity with gray feathers and an even more disgustingly shriveled face.
　　　　“What the h e l l is that thing?” I gasped aloud, slinking in behind Pete.
　　　　“A harpy,” She replied without a stutter. Steak glanced once at me, and then at Pete, and then at Rudstein before skittering out the door in a hurried panic. Some chaperone.
　　　　“She’s more hideous than she was before, Crud. I’ll need to wash my eyes!” I mentioned, gagging.
　　　　Apparently Mrs. Rudstein was as vain as she was ugly and did not waste time in showing me how rude children got beatings from harpies.