SHOOT| ✓

Katherine Jung

SNEAKING AROUND THE LOCKER ROOM CAN RESULT IN A TWENTY-DAY SUSPENSION.

Not just any locker room. The girl's locker room. Luckily for me, there are only two weeks of school left and suspension is near impossible. This is not to say I'm the first boy to pull this stunt, but I'm going to be the first to fail.

Katherine Jung–but everyone calls her Kat–is an old classmate of mine. I met her on our first day of grade three when two young boys thought they could get a good laugh by teasing her about the shape of her eyes.

Making degrading comments that no third graders should have known to make.

Can you see me?

Why are you always squinting?

You're pretty stupid for an Asian girl.

Can't you talk like everyone else?

Unlike all the other children, I found her eyes beautiful. They were dark. Black. Edgy. A galaxy forming within a body. So I didn't walk away like the others. I remember offering her my hand when she cried behind the rock circle and doing what all children did to signify the start of a new friendship.

I gave her one of my mother's homemade chocolate chip cookies at recess.

Hence our story was born. Right up until it died along with her mother in sixth grade. Students stopped making comments. Teachers took pity. I didn't really do anything other than offer her an assortment of desserts.

Kat never spoke to me after the entire ordeal and I let her be. I found Ryder in high school after all.

We kept our contact to a minimum. Some unspoken mutual agreement that I now plan to break after nine long years.

I can feel the weight of the Swiss Army Knife in the back pocket of my jeans, almost as heavy as the burden on my chest. I wait patiently for Kat to round the corner and head for the door. I'll act and plunge the weapon into her throat.

Easy.

"I swear Mr. Goldstein only teaches girl's gym so he can creep on us. Did you see the way he was talking to Shayla today?"

I must have miscalculated, Kat isn't alone. Her comment rouses snickers and giggles from one other girl. An all too recognizable sound that I somehow can't place.

"You should have seen the look on his face when her boyfriend walked in at the end of class," she goes on, "all like Oh my God, I totally wasn't creeping on your girl."

I take a chance and crane my head out to the side, stealing a glance at the two females. I catch sight of Kat's waterfall of jet-black hair and that's about it. She has her back to me and keeps the other from view.

"Goldstein's not so bad. He's a nice guy."

"That's what he wants you to think, Darcy. I don't think teachers are supposed to point out that there's a button loose on your shirt. Like, why was he looking there?"

Darcy again. I now understand why her laughter resonated in a way nobody else's does. "You're overthinking things, Kat. Goldstein doesn't mean anything by it, I can guarantee you."

I can guarantee she has a smile on her face and a glimmer in her hazel eyes.

The thought of running the knife along her skin brings a gentle flush to my cheeks again and a spike in my heart rate.

A locker is pushed shut and their footsteps echo against the walls, which are much less grimy than the boys' locker room walls. I force myself to cease breathing as they walk by the set of lockers I press myself against. This is my chance. I can take them both now. Two kills in one day. More than I have ever accomplished.