From the moment you entered this specific high school you pretty much figured out that there is a specific time you do not enter the second floor bathroom with the red door.
Nobody ever entered this bathroom at 12:45 to 1:25 every Wednesday and Fri...
From the moment you entered this specific high school you pretty much figured out that there is a specific time you do not enter the second floor bathroom with the red door.
Nobody ever entered this bathroom at 12:45 to 1:25 every Wednesday and Friday, unless you had a death wish, or you didn't know yet.
But Ian forgot one Friday and raised his hand asking the teacher if he could get a drink- this teacher always said "why didn't you go at break" even if you didn't have break the period before. Every student hated him, but he couldn't deny the basic human right that is water as much as he'd like to, so as an answer Ian was waved dismissed from class.
Instead of turning right towards the fountain when he left the door he turned left and around the corner, towards the bathroom door with a red wood snd silver handle.
All the classroom doors down this hallway where shut, and he frowned at the weirdness, at least one class usually had there door opened, but none where at the moment.
Ignoring the feeling in his gut he halted at the door and pressed his hand fully around the handle, pulling it back. A gust of wind blew his hair back to reveal his face as he entered, the brick wall hiding him from the rest of the bathroom. It was almost so silent you couldn't hear a pin dropped except for the noises of the schools horrible pipes, so quiet that Ian almost fled from the spoke of fear through his body.
Turning his body only a quarter around the wall that hide him from everyone else he noticed the many people around him.
Two people, both with dark hair that was ruffled beyond belief, where pressing each other against the wall, their lips fighting for domination, and their hips grinding against each other, no care for the eyes currently watching them.
One person was leaning against the wall, his eyes uninterested in the two people making out, their eyes hazy as they looked around the small space full of stalls- and urinals. His golden hair was reflecting the lights, bedhead style that was perfect for his face shape.
A pair seemed to be passing little packets of white powder and what Ian could quickly identify as joints full of weed, if it was good he didn't know. They where in the shadows more then the light.
Ians heart rate sped up as he looked down at his watch, on it read 12:45 directly on the dot.
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