She reached her hand up to the glass and wiped away the precipitation. Though the streak was small, she could still see through. The mesh of colors had dispersed, and the hallway seemed almost empty. Satisfied she was safe, Ashley pushed a mental button and the force field retracted, stale air brushing against her sweaty face. Her locker was easy to find, it was the only one labeled in black marker. She tried the lock, but could never remember all the digits: if it was 32, 24, 36, or 24, 32, 36. The door opened with a squeak, but there was nothing inside. It was hollow. This act was a mere ritual. To remind her that she was normal, like everyone else.

Footsteps approached her from behind along the hallway. Ash tensed up, prepared to accept the verbal blows or some hurtful gesticulation, but none came…just a soft voice.

“Sorry about Mrs. Gimlet, Ash. She sucks. So do a lot of people at this school…I’ll see you in lab, k?”

The words struck Ashley in the back of the neck, causing her hair to stand on end, and a prickly feeling to erupt her chest. She turned away from her locker door to catch Spencer’s beautiful blonde shower of hair swish across her face and bounce back over her shoulder. Spencer’s frame gracefully sauntered past the rows of lockers towards the end of the hall. As she pushed through the glass doors, her body was bathed in sunlight, obscuring her from view. Ashley pulled out a pen and stabbed the inside of her wrist until the pain was unbearable. She deduced she wasn’t dreaming, that her beloved Spencer had not been a mirage or a daydream. A dull ache began to form in her abdomen and her head began to throb. She opened her bag and removed her notebook, opening to her April 3 entry and began to write:

5. She reassured me that I am not abnormal. Then spoke of her anticipations of seeing me in bio lab. She seemingly believes the majority of the student body sucks a fat one, however this obviously does not include me…I predict she will ask me to prom.

Ashley carefully closes her notebook and returns it to the third zippered compartment of her handbag. Glancing quickly around her, she proceeds down the hallway, an almost unnoticeable skip in her step, and pushes through the glass doors, her small frame disappearing from view, swallowed up by the light.