My locker was at the other end of the hall, and the cafeteria was right here. Something about the way she just took my bag into her space, and reaffirmed that we’d be together this afternoon, too, kind of comforted me. Like I had a place.
Lunch. I let out a breath. It was the part I was dreading the most. Even though the entire morning so far was a running contest for “most awkward.”
The whispers in Algebra.
The awkward silence in French.
The laughter in the science lab when the class president introduced herself and offered to be of any help she could in a really loud voice like I was deaf instead of blind.
The nervous verbal exchange with the P.E. teacher who’d forgotten to accommodate for me in her basketball lesson plan, so she ended up putting me on the treadmill for thirty minutes all by myself.
It was to be expected, I guess. I was the only visually impaired student, and I was the mayor’s daughter. People were curious, while others were just unaware or flustered as to how to interact with me. I supposed the learning curve applied to us all.
“Whoo-hoo!” Loud shouts descended down the hall, and I turned toward the noise, hearing a door swing open and closed a few times as it banged the wall.
Students jostled on both sides of me, squeezing between me and Rika and forcing us farther apart as they tried to get to wherever they were going.
Finally, she took my hand, leading me away. She hadn’t taken my hand all mornin
g, and my mother had made her aware that I didn’t really like that. I preferred to hold on to them, not the other way around.
Plus, it made me feel like a kid.
“Ow, ow, ow!” someone howled, and I jerked my head toward the noise, wondering what was going on. It was lot noisier at this school.
My thumb brushed the cuff of Rika’s shirt as she held my hand in her slender one, and I continued my slow steps through the crowd.
Hadn’t she been wearing a short-sleeved shirt, like a Polo shirt? With a sweater vest, I thought? I felt them both as I’d been holding her arm all morning.
I narrowed my eyes.
And just then, I heard my name.
“Winter!” Rika’s voice called.
And it wasn’t coming from the person holding my hand, either.
I halted.
“Winter!” she shouted again. “Put your hand up, so I can see you!”
I yanked my hand out of the grasp of whoever had me and was just about to raise it, so Rika could find me, but the person grabbed me, I heard a door creak open, and I was shoved, stumbling into a completely different room with a tiled floor under my boots, humid air, and a strange smell, like a mixture of sweat, sporting equipment, and perfume.
Or…a body spray.
I shot my hands out in front of me, breathing hard and noticing the noise around me had changed, too. The distant shouts and chatter from down the hallway were gone, no doors opening and closing, and…no female voices.
“I think you’re in the wrong place, honey,” some guy said, chuckling.
“Whoo-hoo,” another boy cooed as he walked by me, and I heard some whistles go off around the room.
Oh, shit.
My stomach sank.
Who the hell had grabbed me out there? Had Rika seen where I’d gone? Oh, my God. I whipped around, feeling for the door and finding it just a few feet away. But when I pushed on it, it wouldn’t budge. Laughter spilled in from the other side, and tears sprang to my eyes as I pounded on the door. It gave way just an inch, I thought, more giggles filtered in from the outside, and then their weight was against it again, keeping me in.
Goddammit. My heart pounded in my chest. I wasn’t in the locker room. I closed my eyes, praying. Please tell me I’m not in the locker room.