Spring

Sage Gibson

The school is two stories tall and intimidating. The brick it's made out of is fading. I don't want to go in.

I'm late. The schedule and informative packet about the school that I was given says the first tardy bell rings at eight. It was nine when I stepped onto campus after walking here.

I slept in this morning but somehow I'm still exhausted. I don't think I'll ever be able to escape my exhaustion. It resides too deep within me, like the insomnia that created it.

I open the door and step in even though I really don't want to. The inside is so white that it kinda burns. The floors are a smooth white tile, the walls are white, and the lockers are red and white striped down the hall. It makes me want to tear my eyes away immediately and run back home.

I think Mom would be upset if I went home before even giving it a chance, so I walk in. The office is at the end of the hallway. There's no windows, just an oak door with a gold plaque that says office on it. I open the door and walk in.

It's quiet, and small. The desk is in the center of the room and there's another door to the left. It's cracked open a little and there's another office in there. I assume it's for the principal.

I walk up to the desk and the woman behind it smiles up at me. She's got long, dark brown hair that's curled, and light brown eyes. She looks young, and pretty. The plaque on her desk says Mrs. Morgan. I smile back at her, or at least I try.

"How can I help you, sweetie?" She asks and her voice sounds kind. That's a relief at least.

"Uh, I'm Sage Gibson. Transfer student."

"Oh!" Her eyes widen in realization and she opens a filing cabinet drawer from beneath her desk. After some rummaging, she pulls out a file with my name on it, and then two papers. "I assume you already have your schedule but here's another copy anyway. And that's a supply list made up for everything you'll need and in each class. There's a sticky note on the back with your locker combination, make sure to memorize it if you can."

I nod and take the paper. She says a few other things about my classes. Apparently the first floor of the building is only for freshmen and sophomore classes while the second floor is for juniors and seniors. After that, I leave. I think to thank her but I'm not so sure if I actually did.

I walk down the hallways looking for my locker number. 117 is what my schedule says. After a wrong turn once, I do finally find it. I huff a little and put in the combination, which I've never had to do before so it takes me a second. My last school didn’t have lockers with locks on them.

I hear the lock click after I've done it. So I try to open the locker. The only problem is I can't.

The locker won't open.

Then the bell rings. Shit. I continue to try and open the door but the bottom is jammed. Mother fucking shit. This is just my luck.

"You got to kick it."

I almost jump out of my skin. My eyes widen and I look over to see someone standing there. He's tall, which is so unfair. He's got black hair that's unkempt and a little messy, and pale skin. He's hot.

The guy is wearing a pair of black sweats with rer lettering that I guess are for his basketball team. That makes him even hotter.  His T-shirt is white and loose around his torso but fits perfectly on his shoulders. His broad shoulders. Did I mention he's hot?