MICHAEL AND MARTIN

The clock weighed down on Michael’s mind after every tick, every second driving the poor kid insane, he was about to snap at any second. Keeping his head down, he tried to ground his mind on the worksheet on the desk. Hearing his brother's pencil tapping against the desk didn't help as his annoyance quickly grew from to bitter irritation as tension rose in his shoulders. Every tap bore deeper into his psyche as the two sat in the detention room, only being accompanied by a teacher who paid no attention to the two boys.

What finally sent him over the edge was not the addition of their supervisor's obnoxious snoring, nor the air conditioner breaking suddenly, but when his younger brother slid up next to him with a mischievous grin. That already set him off, he should be doing his work instead of bothering him.

"Hey Mikey, how long do you think we can get out before this old man wakes up?" his brother asked.

Ignoring him, Micheal leaned forward to focus harder on the words on the page. He tried keeping his face neutral, but the anger that ate him from the inside forced his eyebrows to bend. His younger brother either chose to gloss over or didn't notice the look and continued to lean into his space.

"Listen, I'm just saying, there's a Wendy's..." he chuckled to himself but quickly recovered and continued, "there's a Wendy's like five minutes away and I know Mr. Anders sleeps like a truck,"

"Sleeps like a truck what do you..what?" Michael whispered to himself in confusion, "Listen Martin. We are not leaving this room until we finish these worksheets and the timer is up, so I suggest you get back to it."

Martin rolled his eyes and leaned against his brother's shoulder lazily which only built up the tension in his body. His mind was like a door, locked shut from saying what he wanted to say, but the emotions on the other side, the irritation, the anger, and annoyance banged on that door in an attempt to break it down.

"Already done, it was actually pretty easy," he said.

Rage wouldn't be the right word to describe the feeling Micheal was going through. What he experienced was far heavier than any anger.

"Then just sit quietly in your seat, detention's almost done and I just have to finish this. Without distractions, preferably," Michael said.

"Are you kidding, you haven't even finished half the page, for someone who studies so much, you'd think you'd be good at this stuff," Martin joked.

Now that's what made his blood boil, that's what did it, that's what broke down the door in his mind as he let the words he's been bottling up all this time finally burst through the doorway.

"I don't want to hear it from someone who thought it was a good idea to graffiti the locker room and sign it with your initials! The same initials that we both use may I remind you!" he exclaimed.

The teacher continued to snore loudly at the front of the room, allowing Michael to continue his furious rant.

"You are the reason we are in here!" he shouted.

"Well, I'm SO SORRY that I'm not some perfect student like you!" Martin countered.

"I never asked you to be perfect! I just need you to think for once in your life!" Michael yelled.

"I can think things through!" Martin grumbled.

"Yeah? Is that why the two of us are stuck in a detention room on a Friday night, the week before finals!" Michael yelled.

"Maybe I just wanted to have a little fun, something you clearly have no experience in!" Martin yelled back.

"Oh fun! This is fun to you! Sitting in an empty room instead of your disgusting grease-covered bed is fun?" Michael mocked, "If it were me, Mom and Dad wouldn't get off my back until I fixed it, but you always get off scot-free!"

His brother paused.

"I said I'd clean my room tomorrow," Martin embarrassingly murmured.

"Yeah, sure." Michael said with an eye roll, "How you stay mom and dad's favorite is beyond me! I cannot even begin to fathom how someone as smart as you act the way you do!"

There was a tick of silence between them before Martin chuckled softly.

"You've always been the favorite," he said faintly, "and I've always been stupid compared to you."

That took Michael by surprise, his shock stopped him from responding as Martin continued.

"You're always studying and doing extra credit stuff, I could never. I just cross my fingers going into a test and hope for the best," Martin's voice cracked a bit as he spoke.

"But that's the thing," Michael said, "Every class, every quiz, every....everything, you ace with flying colors and you don't even have to try. I gotta work twice as hard, go to study groups, do extracurriculars just to keep up with you."

An uncomfortable silence settled between the two boys as the clock continued in the background, both wanted to say something to the other but couldn't formulate the right words. Martin sighed and stood up, not making eye contact with his older brother, he approached the desk at the front of the room and shook the man awake. He jolted awake in a violent manner, his eyes rested on Martin, and adjusted his glasses.

"Hey, Mr. Anders...I um...I finished my work," the boy stuttered.

"I can see that, but you still have twenty minutes left of detention," Mr. Anders said.

"I know but uh...you should at least let my brother out," Martin said, "I was the one who graffitied the locker room, he had nothing to do with it.”

Michael didn't know how to react, he sat awkwardly and stared at his paper as though the equations in front of him were more interesting than the conversation in front of him even though he was so obviously eavesdropping, it was hard not to when there was only three people in the room. Mr. Anders sighed and glanced at the clock.

Alright," Mr. Anders said, wiping a hand across his face, "seeing as it's a Friday night and none of us wants to be here, how about I just call it early and we can all head home."

"No! I need to stay!" Martin said.

I need to face the punishment.

"Dude it's fine," Michael said, "thanks Mr. Anders."

The two of them walked out of the room together.

"Looks like you avoid punishment once more," Michael joked.

"Shut up," Martin said with a laugh and shoved him playfully.

Isabella Conroy grew up in the bustling state of Virginia. As a beginner artist, they spend their time listening to podcasts and video essays while practicing digital art. Follow them on Instagram @izari.us