Unlucky

Chapter 3; Here's Your Locker, Sike!

"Jamie, what's your locker number?" Shannon Muller asked as we strolled down the north wing of Elbridge City High examining our new schedules for the upcoming school year. The high school hallways were extensive and narrow. The marble floors were polished until a shine gleamed under the fluorescent lighting fixtures. The walls lined with blue lockers were painted in a metallic gray, the smell of fresh paint was in the air. The hallways were well-lit, surprisingly pristine, and proudly adorned the walls with the Elbridge City High mascot, the E.C. Falcons.

"Locker 206, what about you?" I said.

"Locker 448. Ugh, I'm all the way down there," Shannon replied as she pointed down the lengthy hallway where her locker stood in the distance. In annoyance, she carefully folded the piece of paper and slid it into her Chanel purse at her side. After a moment, a light bulb went on in Shannon's mind and her facial expression transformed from annoyance to eagerness.

"Here's an idea! Let's go check out our lockers, and then we'll go to The Tower for lunch?" Shannon suggested.

"Perfect!" I said. The Tower had an amazing Asian Oriental Salad I have been craving for. Shannon turned on her stiletto heel and began her journey south to her locker. She faded into the bustling crowds of students traveling up and down the narrow hallway. They were all determined to do the same thing, locate their lockers. I brought my attention to the first set of lockers on the right, 200, 201, 202, 203, 204, 205. In the next set of lockers, I found my locker. It was the first locker of the set, locker 206. My locker for the next four years. I glanced down at the paper Eileen King, my Freshmen Orientation Leader, gave me at the conclusion of the assembly in the auditorium. But, before I turned the lock to enter my locker combination, a young woman with wavy ginger hair gave me a strange look at locker 207, one locker to the left.

"Is there spinach in my teeth?" I said.

"No, no. I'm sorry. I don't mean to stare. It's just--Are you Nikki Anderson's son?" She asked. I was surprised by her question, it was out of the blue. How did she know my mother? I didn't recognize her or her flaming hair in a shade of brilliant orange. My parents were extremely prominent in Elbridge City, they worked closely with Shannon's parents, who were heavily involved in the city's politics. Maybe her parents knew my parents through a professional relationship.

"Yes, I am. How do you know--," I began.

"Sorry, I have to go . . ." She said.

The girl with the wavy ginger hair abandoned her locker, I watched her walk down the hallway towards the main stairwell where a member of the faculty stood. They were only a few yards away, their conversation was barely audible. The girl with the wavy ginger hair asked the faculty member to change her locker number because she was unhappy with her location. She was clearly upset. I was stunned. Did my relations with my mother offend her? Why?

"Um, Jamie," Shannon said, flustered. She emerged from the bustling crowds in the same way she faded into them. She was annoyed, her Freshmen Orientation paper a bit crinkled in agitation. "My locker combination doesn't work, like the locker won't open. There was a cute guy next to me, he couldn't open his either. I think there is some kind of mix up with the lockers and the locker combinations," she explained. My guess? She turned the lock incorrectly.

"Shannon, did you put in--" I said, offering a suggestion.

"Yes! I'm not stupid! I can enter three numbers into a lock. It's not rocket science!" Shannon said.

"Let me try my locker," I said as I spun around to face my locker. I scanned my Freshmen Orientation paper where my locker combination was listed: Locker Combination: 27-03-15. I carefully followed the directions noted on the paper alongside the locker combination. Shannon was breathing down my neck, it was a bit annoying. As I entered my last number, the lock would not budge, the lock would not move. I was absolutely sure I entered in the combination correctly . . .