So Monday morning I was to school half an hour early, as usual. I went straight to my locker, wanting to hang up some pictures I brought from home. Mrs. Grenado had never said anything about the inside of my locker, had she?
So when I go there I set down my backpack, which was extremely heavy today, and turned the dial. When I pulled up on the notch, it clicked, but didn't open. I turned the dial to the right, resetting it. Then I tried again. The notch clicked a bit further, but the door wouldn't budge. I tried once more, but the same thing happened. I wanted to kick the door down, I was so frustrated! I knew it was going to be a bad day. So I hoisted my bag back onto my back and went on down the hall to room 216. Perhaps Mrs. Grenado could help me open it. But when I arrived the door was closed and the lights turned off. How odd, I thought to myself, that she would not be here yet. She was always here at this time of day. So I turned around and returned to my locker to try once more at opening my locker. It still did not open, and I considered going to the basement to Mr. Galls office.
"What was it, to the office, down the elevator, right not left? Or left not right? I am pretty sure it is right NOT left." But before I started to the elevator, I heard doors opening and footsteps. Which meant that the students were arriving. This also meant that if I went downstairs I would never make it back in time for homeroom. I set my backpack down again and sighed. Then I tried again to open the locker, this time pushing against it, as if that would help. I didn't even notice the boy at his locker next to me.
"Do you need some help?" a voice asked. I looked up and there was a boy, a little taller than me, with spiky orange hair, and he was looking at the lock I was trying to force open.
"Um, yeah. I just got this locker and it doesn't seem to be opening." I was slightly dumbfounded, as this was the first person in my grade to talk to me. And it didn't sound like he was being mean either. Maybe this was a sign that today wouldn't be horrible. I stepped away as he reached his hand over and grasped the dial.
"Combination?" he asked expectantly. I fumbled around in my pocket where I had stuck the piece of paper until I found it.
"Um, 12-25-9," I mumbled and looked up. The boy was frozen with his and around the lock and I heard him take in a little gasp. I was worried he was having a heart attack or something, until his hand started turning the dial.