arts teacher. It was the first year I’d ever had a locker and they were strategically located outside of the language arts classroom. Being totally honest, I felt wicked cool having a locker. It was such a rite of passage, to the point where I actually cut out pictures from a Tiger Beat magazine and hung them inside of the door. (Isn’t that what you were supposed to do, in fifth grade? Like it was some after-school special on Nickelodeon?) Nicole, my locker partner, and I cut out pictures of tropical fish and fashioned a pretend aquarium out of the locker—we went so far as to make a fake filter out of a used water bottle and some aluminum foil.
One day as two of my friends and I walked back from the cafeteria after lunch, we stopped by our lockers to toss in our lunch bags. Christie grabbed her reading book from the top shelf of her locker. Nicole didn’t need anything because she already had her book. I reached into the bottom of our locker to retrieve a reading book and saw a folded up piece of paper stuck in the locker vents.
“To Kerri Only.”
A note! I got a note! Fifth-grade immaturity gave way to giggles and blushing as we crowded around the note to read.
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