I thought about event at my locker earlier all day. Yes, I did get my locker opened, and the boy opened it with surprisingly incredible ease. All he did was turn the combination and pull. It was a bit peculiar, as I was sure it was jammed from the inside and not from the lock, but maybe I just wasn't strong enough. But I was pulling awefully hard. And then when he froze after I told him my combination, that spooked me.
I first thought that I should tell the school nurse, but I figured if there was really something wrong with that boy, that he would be able to go himself. And apparently his locker was right next to mine, so I would see him tomorrow.
And I did. The next day was Tuesday, and I had gym in 3rd period. After I changed into my gym uniform in the spacious girls locker room, I followed the parade of girls out to the gymnasium. Wooden floors, six separate basketball nets, not to mention another auxiliary gym in the back plus a storage room the size of a classroom. The ceilings were fifty feet from the floor, and the entire place was air-conditioned. As this was the class's first gym class, the teacher divided us into six groups of six, and had us line up single file against the wall.
And that's when I noticed the boy directly across a row from me. He was standing perfectly straight, looking at the teacher who was giving directions. His uniform was neatly pressed and his shoes had but a scuff mark. We all had received our uniforms on the first day of school, and mine had just been tossed in my backpack until I had a gym locker to stuff them in.
But I never really noticed him until now. His eyes were bright, almost shining. They were barely slits, and were hard against his complexion, almost as if he was wearing mascara they were so dark. But the color simply jumped out at you. A beautiful, light grass green with sea blue highlights. And as I observed, they were encompassed in a coal black ring. Just the same as Mr. Galls, the custodian and Martha, the cashier lady. Suddenly, bluntly, he looked at me. His hair was no longer orange as it had been the day before. It was a golden blonde, almost as mine, but so much more beautiful and flowing to distinct points all over his head. My face flamed in embarressment, but even more so when I realized that the teacher was talking to me, and every other student was looking at me also. "I'm sorry Coach Peters. What was it you asked?"
"What's your name?" he repeated sarcastically.
"Um, Jennifer Carriage. Sir, er, coach." I looked at him shyly while he was writing in his black book. I felt the need to salute him.
"Well, thank you for returning your focus to the class, Jennifer. And maybe from now on you could pay less attention to Mr. Read and more to my instructions, hmm?" he concluded and moved onto the next row. I couldn't breathe. I looked onto the row of my classmates in front of me. The girls were glaring. The boys didn't seem to care much. But in the row right of me the girls were fuming. This was the most emotion shown to me my entire time at this school. And I definitely did not like it. Apparently Mr. Read was pretty popular. I looked over to him again. He was not looking at me anymore, and his face was composed. Smooth as porcelin, with no sign of emotion. So maybe he was as embarressed as I was. But I doubted it.