Julie's pov

I'm currently sitting in Mr. Dick Kemp's class serving my detention, when in walks the Grim Reaper himself, we call him Shane for short. After giving me a look so cold I literally shiver, Shane and my least favorite teacher head to his office to discuss the precipitating factors which culminated into this afterschool pow-wow.

Approximately twelve minutes thirty-four seconds later, they emerge from his office. Mr. Kemp has that smug smirk on his face that makes me want to slap the shit out of his bitch face and Shane appears ready to reap my soul.

"You're free to go, Julie. I'll see you tomorrow and please come prepared this time by completing the required reading prior to the beginning of class, instead of during."

Wow, thanks for that added pinch of salt in my open wound, Dick, 'preciate it. Seriously could slap the shit out of this man, then slap him again, then go back in time once the time machine's invented and sterilize his parents before killing Hitler, then come back and throw a rager to celebrate. Unbeknownst to me, that fantasy left a smile on my face which unfortunately, did not go unnoticed by Shane.

"I don't find any of this the slightest bit amusing, young lady," Shane hisses, roughly grabbing my arm to drag me out of Mr. Kemp's class. As soon as we're in the hall, he takes the opportunity to slap my bottom hard enough for anyone still in the school to hear I'm sure. The sound echoed loudly off the lockers and low ceilings. I have to bite my lip to keep from cursing out loud due to the sting his powerful hand left on my backside and the fact that I'm pissed Mr. Kemp no doubt knows what that sound was from and is probably smirking his sickening smug grin right now at my expense.

Shane doesn't loosen his painful grip on my bicep until he not so gently deposits me into the passenger seat of his car as he continues to lecture me en route to home.

"Honestly, Julie, do you think I have nothing better to do with my time than retrieve your troublemaking behind from detention, yet again?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Kemp interrupted high tea but I don't see why you're blaming me for that," I say rather haughtily, of course using an awful British accent when saying high tea.

"It would be afternoon tea at this hour, not high tea..." Shane states, the perfectionist in him unable to let the irrelevant distinction between the two go uncorrected, "...and that's besides the point anyway." Now he's annoyed and flustered. "I'm referring to the fact that I shouldn't have to leave work early to fetch you."

"I didn't ask you to FETCH me. I could've taken the late bus home," I say completely unconcerned, as I stare out the window, leaning to avoid putting pressure on my recently assaulted left buttcheek. Shit, the Admiral hits hard when he's pissed.

"Your teacher called me to request I come in person so we could have a chat about your behavior and this isn't the first time, mind you." Shane's becoming more annoyed with me by the minute.

"Again, not my problem," I say flatly, still gazing out the window, oblivious to the soon to be irate man sitting less than two feet away from me. I am soon to become acutely aware, however, as Shane pulls the car over on the side of the road, puts the hazards on, engages the child safety locks and turns to me with fire in his eyes.

Starting to realize the error of my ways, I push my wide eyed self back against the door in a futile attempt to circumvent Shane.

Shane grips my jaw tightly.

"I have had more than enough of your flippant, disrespectful mouth now. You will remain silent for the remainder of the ride home then you will go straight to my room, sit in the chair by my door and without moving a muscle, wait for me to return to discipline you, which I will do after I've had sufficient time to calm down."

I swallow hard, knowing I've pushed him too far. My mind flashes back to the night he took me to the dugout at the park.

Squeezing my jaw even tighter, in a terrifyingly chilling tone, he adds, "Nod if I've made myself perfectly clear."

I nod my head, too afraid to speak now even if I wanted to.

Once we arrive back at the NJC and I'm sitting in Shane's room waiting for him to return, I slip into a state of self-reflection. As terrified as I am of Shane right now, I'm still more afraid of Mike when I'm in trouble. Even after what Shane did to me that night in the dugout, Mike instills more fear in me. Maybe it's because I've seen what happens when Shane surpasses his limit but Mike's limits are still unknown.

The fear of the unknown can be crippling to say the least, so I try to push those thoughts out of my head and focus on something mindless. I start singing to myself some of the lyrics from One Direction songs. Don't judge me. Their music is a guilty pleasure I only indulge in occasionally and always in secret, to avoid the merciless teasing that would surely ensue. Halfway through the third song Night Changes, Shane returns, bursting my utopian song bubble, looking angrier than ever.

"Julie, I've had sufficient time to think about your punishment for disrespecting your science teacher Mr. Kemp and justly earning yourself an afterschool detention. This seems to be an ongoing pattern of tardiness, disobedience, and insolence with you, and your teacher and I agree it needs to stop." Shane looks me dead in the eye before dropping the bomb. "You won't be playing in Friday's basketball game."

Rising to my feet, I yell, "WHAT? YOU CAN'T DO THAT! IT'S THE LAST GAME OF THE SEASON. IF WE WIN, WE COULD GO TO THE PLAYOFFS."

Shane's pov

Ahhh, it appears I've finally found Julie's currency.

"First, don't raise your voice to me again, or you'll find yourself face down on my bed feeling the sting of my belt," I sternly warn, before continuing, "Secondly, Mike and I have made it very clear to all four of you girls that playing a school sport is a privilege, not a right."

"Shane, you can't do this, please," Julie desperately begs. "My team needs me, it's not fair."

"I've already spoken to your coach and it's done. Next time you think about disrespecting or smarting off to one of your teachers, or Mike, or myself, remember this and keep your mouth shut," I say with finality, taking a seat behind my desk and starting some office work.

"Shane, can't we talk about this? I'm sorry I disrespected you and Mr. Kemp. I'll apologize to him tomorrow, in writing and in person. Please let me play in the game," Julie pleads, almost in tears at this point.

"End of discussion, Julie Elizabeth. Go to your room," I say, in a tone that should not be challenged. I'm determined to teach this girl some respect for authority and I will not back down.

Julie's pov

I stomp out of Shane's room and angrily march down the hall. Throwing the door open to our bedroom, I start to unleash my anger, kicking anything in my path and cursing up a storm.

"Whoa, what's got you wildin'?" my cousin asks, taking cover as I kick one of Lisa's shoes across the room and throw my backpack on the floor.

"THAT MOTHER FUCKING, BRITISH COCKSUCKER WON'T LET ME PLAY IN THE GAME FRIDAY 'CAUSE THAT ASSHOLE MR. KEMP GAVE ME FUCKIN' DETENTION TODAY!" I yell, kicking a pile of clothes on the floor.

"Wait, WHAT? He's not letting you play in the last regular season game 'cause of some STUPID detention?" Stacey can't believe Shane would do that.

"Yeah, that was hilarious when you walked in six minutes late and he said, you're late and you were like, time is such a fleeting concept, then Mr. Kemp asked why are you late and you said, I was unavoidably detained, and he's like just take your seat Julie you've wasted enough of our time and you're like, well time flies when you're being unreasonable."

"Lisa, you're kinda missin' the big picture here," Carrie says, while giving me a sympathetic look.

"No wait, you haven't heard the best part yet." Lisa continues recapping the events in class that led to my detention. "Mr. Kemp is in the middle of lecturing and Julie pulls out today's newspaper and just starts reading it in the middle of class and it's makin' all this noise when she turns the pages and folds it over so Mr. Kemp walks over and rips it out of her hands and Julie shouts, YOU DICK! Oh man, it was fuckin' hilarious."

"Yeah, that was funny. Wasn't it?" I giggle, momentarily putting my anger aside.

"But, Julie, you have to play in the game. It's our last chance at making the playoffs."

"I know, I told Shane that but he didn't care. He just said he already told coach Ryder and it was done," I lament, as I crash face first on my bed and scream into my pillow. "AARRRGGGHHHHH!!!" muffling the sound of my tantrum.

"He was probably just pissed off when he said you couldn't play in the game. Maybe he'll change his mind when he calms down," Stacey says, trying to be optimistic.

"Yeah, maybe you can try talking to Shane after dinner or even tomorrow, after he's had a good night's sleep." Carrie's voice is full of hope.

"I guess it's worth a shot." I'm not nearly as confident as my cousin or sisters but I'm willing to try anything to be able to play in Friday's game. I love playing basketball and I don't want to let my team down or miss my last game of the season.

After dinner

Shane's room

Julie's pov

I knock on Shane's door, he tells me to come in but before I can even open my mouth, he cuts me off saying, "If you came here to try to dissuade me from barring you from playing Friday, just turn around and walk out because I will not change my mind about the game."

"But you're not being fair. You won't even listen to me," I whine.

"I BLOODY WELL HEARD ENOUGH, JULIE, WHEN I SAT IN YOUR TEACHER'S OFFICE THIS AFTERNOON AND LISTENED TO HIM RATTLE OFF SEVERAL EXAMPLES OF YOUR DISRESPECTFUL, RUDE, AND INSOLENT BEHAVIOUR! SO DON'T YOU DARE ACCUSE ME OF NOT LISTENING OR BEING UNFAIR!" Shane shouts, slamming his right palm down on his desk.

"He just has it in for me, he always has. You can even ask Lisa, she knows," I continue whining, desperately trying to sway Shane to see things from my point of view.

"I will not consider any of your ridiculous excuses to justify your abhorrent behaviour." Shane looks at me coldly, just daring me to have the gall to challenge him. "I will not hesitate, however, to entertain the option of adding on a spanking to your punishment if you continue to argue, Julie," Shane says threateningly.

"You can't do this, Shane." I stomp my foot, like a two-year old having a tantrum.

"I can and I have. End of story." Shane is not wavering one bit.

"Why are you being so unreasonable? Mike would never do this and if he was here, he wouldn't let you do it either. You're just being a jerk." I'm so mad at Shane right now, I'm seeing red. Mike is currently in some unknown place like poo river Africa or something that's so remote, he has no cell service or wifi and his only form of communication is a satellite phone that's for life threatening emergencies only.

"THAT IS ENOUGH, JULIE ELIZABETH!" Shane shouts, getting to his feet. "You and I both know that Mike would bloody well support this punishment if he was here." Shane confronts me, suit coat brushed back by his hands on his hips, an angry scowl on his face. "This is your last chance to leave my room without a tanned backside so I suggest you take it."

"Ughhh, I hate you," I say, stomping out of his room. Once I'm safely out of earshot, I vow, "I'm playing in that game Friday, no matter what Shane says."