Around the Corner (Discontinued)

Chapter 21

Laila's P.O.V.

Everything feels so surreal until that moment.

I pass by masses of students shoving piles of crumpled worksheets and locker decor into enormous bags, eager to leave.

Today is Friday. The last Friday of seventh grade.

The day had began unceremoniously and continued regular routines without much change. Perhaps it was the lack of emotion throughout the lessons that made today no different from any other day. Yet, in the blink of an eye, the school year disappeared into vague shards of memories that were out of focus and breezed by too quickly. I would've cherished even the smallest of moments a bit longer, but my brain had refused to accept the idea school is about to end. Only now have I been able to take everything in, to realize three months of summer awaited me.

But it is far too late for that to matter.

My bus will be here in a matter of minutes to escort me to summer break. At least, that's what the call it. All I ever saw was lonely days and quiet nights, for the idea there is any fun was a lie all too familiar to me. I had friends then, although they were never there for me, the idea gave me some comfort.

Now, I only have enemies.

I find my closed locker among the rest and enter the lock for the last time before it will be changed next year. The door creaks open with a plea for oil.

With the exception of a few sticky notes and a small photo of Bramble, the locker was empty. I never gave it much attention or thought, but now it bothers me. Personalizing lockers was something essential for the school year. Apparently, people spent money to cover rusting metal with stickers and magnets. It was a bizarre madness students found fashionable, one I felt was pointless. But I realize there was a point behind it.

You will fit in.

I stare at my locker again, empty and hollow, lacking any personalization or anything even slightly pleasing. Now I know why it bothers me.

I feel like I was staring into a mirror.

I clean out my locker with ease, and, no surprisingly, with time to spare. Locking the door open, the security guard stops by my row to examine the lockers for any graffiti. I hastily slump my book bag over my shoulder and head out, assuming I was clear. As I reach the end of the hall, she calls me back.

"Excuse me, are these yours?" she asks holding a small, round disc in her hand. I recognize the logo on the plastic coin from the arcade at the mall.

Instantly, I recognize his thick rimmed glasses and sparkling grin.

"Yes, thanks," I reply as I grab the coin.

I inspect it carefully, surprised I hadn't lost it by now. I held the plastic token cautiously, as not to drop it. It isn't the coin that was fragile, however. It's the memory of him, etched into my like a mind distinctively, like a knife against skin, leaving behind a crimson red.

That's what he is, an immense drop of red in a gray prison cell. Last he saw of me was a fake smile as I waved good bye from my porch. I toy with the thin plastic in my hands before setting it aside in my pocket. I stare out at passing houses through the grimy bus window.

Had I been less foolish, I would've learned my lesson from Felix and Millie. All these stupid rules everyone has to follow to feel part of the school. All those little things you should do, the lockers, taking your boyfriend to the dance, wearing these brands and bullying these kids. I would've learned and accepted it. Boy, I would've had plenty of friends by now. I would've been part of a clique. I would've done so many things stupid things. I would make a fool of myself.