Detention Journal, part two

There’s this girl sitting in my row, about eight desks back. We’re supposed to keep to ourselves, so it’s hard for me to see her very well. I’d have to turn all the way around to get a good look at her, and I’m already in enough trouble as it is.

But I can hear her just fine. She turns the pages of her notebooks really loudly. I’m sure she’s doing it on purpose. You can only get so much sound out of a page, though, so it’s not quite enough to get her in trouble, which I’m sure she knows.

She also clears her throat every so often in this stilted, theatrical way. It’s also not really enough to get her in trouble, but you can tell the teacher in charge of the detention hall doesn’t like it because she looks up and kind of frowns in her direction every so often.

Also, Sorta Loud Girl has her hair braided with a lot of beads in it. Every time she moves her head more than a little, you can hear them clacking together. Between the page flipping and the throat clearing and the bead clacking, but there’s no way you can miss her, even if you can’t really see her. She’s made sure that everybody knows she’s here.

For today, she’s my new best friend.