Behind the track bathroom - 6
On the perfect plane of the school track, my feet find each other to stumble over. I spin around to see if anyone saw and, still, no one is in sight. I face the bathroom again, a squat stucco rectangle out by itself in the field behind the track. This has to be a prank, but if anyone's there, they're not showing. I pressed my hand against my pocket, feeling the note crinkle. My arms grasp each other again. Ice spreads through my chest and limbs as I take another step.
This is all because of first period. It began in the usual way. The door handle clacked, breaking the warm sleepy quiet of the classroom, and Tracy walked in ten minutes past the starting bell. All eyes turned to watch her procession down the middle of the room. Under light eyeliner, her eyes never wavered from her seat. Her nose ring was in today and the sides and back of her head were freshly buzzed. She was holding her backpack with both right hands, had her copy of Brave New W