The Iceberg Tipping

Rory’s fists were clenched so tightly that the skin around his knuckles was a bony white. He was sure his cheeks were flushed and there was a fury in his eyes that kept people from bumping into him in the halls. He remembered when the kids in the hallway would part like the sea for Emma, avoiding her like a social pariah. They avoided him like that, his anger contagious.
indent He’d never had a detention before in his life.
indent He entered the room, slamming the door behind him, only to find that it was deserted. Posters on the walls told students to listen, to study, to ask questions. Rory groaned before sitting down at a table towards the back.
indent He wasn’t sure whether he was early or if he was missing some sort of detention etiquette where it was only acceptable to show up late, but the room was devoid of any life. Even the small plant on the window sill was wilted and dead.
indent Rory kicked his backpack under the table and then leaned back in the chair, which creaked gently under his weight. He rocked slightly and the creaking continued, creating a song that was far from beautiful.
indent The door quickly and quietly opened, exposing Emma to the nearly empty room.
indent Rory looked up quickly, a soft smile appearing at the corners of his mouth. Emma mirrored him, closing the door with both hands before shuffling her feet towards him and taking the seat next to him.
indent She stole glances over at him and he pretended not to notice, both outcasts among the outcasts that were slowly filling the room. Boys with spiked collars and girls with brightly colored hair; a boy who looked suspicious and a girl who looked like she just escaped a loony bin. Rory and Emma paid them no attention, too lost in their game of stolen glances.
indent The teacher walked into the chaos of detention and slammed a book down on the desk. No nonsense was etched into every fiber of his being. Everyone quieted and settled into their different tables, waiting for their name to be called before they fell into the cautious detention nap.
indent Half way through role call, though, James decided to make his entrance.
indent“Mr. Rodney, you’re late,” the teacher’s droning voice pointed out, while James’ eyes scanned the room for empty desks. Emma shivered beside Rory and out of the corner of his eye he could see her slouching into her chair.
indent She was forming her body into a tight ball, trying to become invisible.
indent But becoming invisible is impossible when you’re Emma.
indent James nodded to the teacher and moved towards Rory’s table, swinging into the seat on the other side of Emma. He slung an arm over her shoulder, making Rory’s blood boil.
indent And the teacher’s too, apparently. “Detention for the rest of the week,” he snapped to which James merely shrugged, tightening his hold on Emma who was trying to shrug out of his grip. She had to bit the tip of her tongue to keep from bursting, screaming that this was not okay to the whole room.
indent Slowly, she closed her eyes, sniffling silently.
indent Rory flipped James’ arm away and grabbed the underside of Emma’s chair to pull her closer to him and farther from James. The chair’s legs screeched against the linoleum, the teachers head shot up,
indent“You, detention for the rest of the week also,” he pointed at Rory, who groaned heavily.