Classes pass...

The bell jolts you from your immersion of poetry, or science, or whatever the hell you're supposed to be studying. You rub the sleep from your eyes quickly standing up from your desk as you toss your textbooks into your bag. You sling your backpack over your shoulder, standing from your seat.

"You coming back to the room?" Lukas asks.

"No, I have to swing by my locker, pick up some books for tonight when I pretend to study and go on Facebook," you say.

As the old saying goes, if the book is open, it counts as studying.

"Fine, I'll see you in a bit," Lukas says.

You head out into the hallways, walking along the path among the lockers towards yours. You find it, swinging open the old metal door as it squeaks on its hinge. You fish out a few books that you haven't looked at in a while from the massive, unorganized pile, before jamming the door shut before the rest of the books can topple out as the pile collapses.

There's a clattering to your left as a running girl slides to a stop in front of the locker next to you. She hurries to open it, swinging open the door with such speed it nearly smacks you in the face. Only at that point does she seem to notice you, taking a step back as she looks at you.

"Oh, hi, sorry!" she says.

You stare her over, getting in her image. She's wearing a tight pair of red gym shorts that's tight to her slim, athletic figure, with a white top. She has a fairly sizable pair of hooters poking through her shirt, long blonde hair tied back in pig tails and a grin on her face. You vaguely recognize her as Chloe, but you can't say you've talked to her.

She quickly pivots around, looking back to her locker, as she quickly rushes to pull out a few books, before she quickly slams the door back, locking it quickly and bursting off down the hallway. You pause, noticing she's dropped one of her books, some old French journal.