“From my locker I collected my sneakers, jock strap, and gym pants and then turned away, leaving the door ajar for the first time, forlornly open and abandoned, the locker unlocked. This was more final than the moment when the Headmaster handed me my diploma. My schooling was over now.”

“I still remember my middle school locker combination. Maybe I should go back to my old locker to see if I left my innocence in there.”

“Nancy Herman, my new gym partner and locker neighbor, puts her hand on my shoulder and whispers, "Don't worry April. I have foot fungus too.”

“Don't call me that," I muttered, banging my forehead into my locker. "And the tutoring went fabulous. Please kill me now." -Meghan Chase”

“School was out for the day, it was just barely starting to feel like spring, and everybody streamed through the hallways drunk on 3:15-p.m. freedom, leaving the rush of students headed for the main doors only long enough to pause at their lockers before rejoining it, like all of it was choreographed, every moment rehearsed, every sound and sight a special effect--the slam and rattle of the metal locker doors, the "call me laters" and "fuckin' chemistry tests" loud and throaty, the thick smell of just-lit cigarettes as soon as you hit the outside steps, the sound of mix tapes blaring from cars as they tore away from the student parking lot, windows down on both sides. I usually liked to soak in all of that for a minute or two, just linger at my locker before heading off to change for practice. But that day there was Coley.”

“Just when I thought my day couldnt get any worse, I saw the dead guy next to my locker.”