Walker intentionally took the most convoluted route to detention at the slowest pace he could manage without looking like he was trying too hard. His backpack was light with the few notebooks he kept in it and he carried his skateboard with him as he ambled down the hall. Then his phone buzzed in his pocket and hope blossomed in his chest that maybe it was an excuse to ditch detention today. Whenever his friends were busy or the ice was thinning between him and the teachers (or as he silently nicknamed them "the feds"), he stayed for detention, but an excuse, any excuse, would be a blessing beyond measure.
He opened his phone, read the first line of the message and stopped to pump his fist in the air.
"Fuck yes," He hissed and read the rest of the message. Oh, wait. Take shelter now? No, no. Not now. He looked up and frantically scouted out the nearest window. He dropped his board in front of him and jumped on it, letting the momentum carry him to the window down the hall. He put his hands out in front of him, cushioned the collision with the wall and pressed his face to the window. White. All white. As far as his eyes could see: White.
It was a little spooky, but he was safe inside, right? That in mind, he pushed off on his board and planned his next move. Maybe Harper was around. Or Jorge; He had detention, too. And Walker owed him big time for that. He dropped his foot and gave himself a boost on the board. The waxed floors made for smooth riding and he appreciated that. He scanned every classroom he passed in case there was a fed still lurking around. They always found him at the most inopportune times. It only felt natural to exercise a little extra caution.
Then he road past a room where he thought he saw the flash of a light and immediately hopped off his board. He heard a voice- a faint girl's voice coming from the other side of the door. Too young to be an adult, but who would be in there. He picked up his board and quietly tip-toed over to the door and peered through the door's window.