Detention
It's a classic 'My life hates me'-Situation. That's it. There is no other way Stiles could have described any of this in any other way. At first it was just detention. He could have handled that, even though Finstock had decided that even the basketballs from the last century had to be pumped up to a decent level, seriously. He could have dealt with that perfectly by his own or maybe even with Greenberg.
What made the whole situation worse was the fact that Finstock had apparently ordered Isaac, the Isaac Lahey Stiles had been trying to ignore for the last week, to make up for being three minutes late by staying and helping Stiles. As if he was going to be of any use, really.
"Okay. Got it, Coach." ---- This was the first time that Stiles would have preferred having to handle Finstock's company but of course they had to be left alone... ( Where was Lydia when she was needed, goddammit? )
Stiles took a seat on the bench, grabbed one of the pumps and one of the flattest balls, trying his best to pretend that he was alone in a room full of balls. Besides. The task of pumping off a ball did require some attention, right? No time for no chats.
