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Our Story (part 3)
“We can’t change back into our clothes. They’re drenched in paint.” Gabriel states.
“Right,” I say. “That’s why we’re going to the school store.”
The Greysen Place sells about everything you would need for school. Binders, paper, pencils, backpacks, hooded sweatshirts, sweatpants, t-shirts. You name it, we got it. Well, as long as it’s black or blue and has our school mascot, the wolf, on it somewhere.
I open the store door and grab a pair of dark blue sweats and a black “Greysen High” t-shirt. Gabriel takes a “Wolves” sweatshirt and black basketball shorts out of the bottom box on the floor. We walk over to the locker rooms, I go into the girls’, he into the boys’.
I take off my rainbow stained jeans and tank when I get to the gym lockers. I hurry into the showers after grabbing a towel and a mini shampoo bottle by the sinks.
As I wash away the coat of oranges and blues off my skin, I think about Gabriel. I think about how nice he has been to me. I think about how he has been there for me when I was about to fall three stories down to my death. Then I realize something, I’m falling for him.
I am so happy that I shut off the shower, dry myself off and put on my clothes as fast as I can. I race out of the girls’ locker room and into the boys’.
I collide into Gabriel when I open the door.
“Gabriel!” I wrap my arms around his waist.
“Hey, Naomi.” He chuckles, surprised. “I was on my way out. What’s up?”
“I-I want to be with you.” I feel confident.
There’s a pause.
“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” He smiles. Then he lowers his face down to mine and kisses me. His lips are gentle and soft. We pull away and walk out of the locker room hand in hand.
As we walk down the hall and to the second floor, we pass by a clock. It’s almost midnight.
“What do you want to do now?” Gabriel asks me.
“Um, it’s late. I think we should just go to sleep.” I let out a yawn.
“Okay. We can rest here.” He points to the library.
“You don’t like bedtime stories?” he kids.
I laugh and he leads me in. I walk over to the reading area with a coffee table, bean bag chairs and a couch. Gabriel grabs a novel. He sits down and I lay my head on his shoulder.
“Once upon a time,” he begins. I giggle. “…there was a lost little girl in the boy’s bathroom…a handsome, young fellow and she ate a great feast… they played basketball… in her frilly, blue dress, she dangled from the balcony… they painted all over the walls… and they lived…”
“That’s our story.” I mumble and shut my eyes. I dream of our happily ever after.
On that Friday morning at 7 a.m., Gabriel and I were woken up by Ms. Ingrid. She explained the situation of that Thursday.
She said that the school immediately sent everyone home because there was a graffiti on the school’s outside wall that said a shooter would kill people who didn’t leave the school that Friday. A custodian picking up trash outside saw the threat and reported back to the main office to warn the principal. The school security guards found the shooter within a few minutes after the threat was written. Mrs. Ingrid rushed everyone home. Even if the shooter was caught, she wanted everyone to be safe. Everyone was in such a hurry, the custodians locked only the outside doors and left everything inside the way it was. It’s just astonishing what can happen in a fifteen minute bathroom break.
Of course, the administrators questioned us about the huge messes the custodians found when they arrived at 6:30 a.m. We admitted it was all us. Our punishment was to help the custodians clean up the whole school that whole day. The teachers had everyone stay home that Friday, for safety precautions.
Gabriel and I only told this story to the administrators. His friends didn’t know, mine didn’t either. Now, I’ve told you. Yeah, that’s our story.