Dawn Karofsky threw open her locker with all the might of a Spartan. A book fell out, but she caught it with sportsman reactions and shoved it back in, not caring that the pages were all squashed. Stupid fucking small lockers.
For the millionth time, she wondered why she’d put a mirror in there, glaring at her reflection and willing her complexion to improve. Maybe she was trying to guilt herself into losing weight, after all, seeing her chubby face in the mirror every time she needed a book was incentive enough. Stupid fucking mirror.
Looking away from her skin, she glanced up at her hair and sighed mournfully. She tugged angrily at the hair tie keeping her tight ponytail in place, and let her hair fall around her shoulders, putting the tie around her wrist to tie it up again in a second, while she got her books. A strand of hair fell into her eyes and she swatted at it, remembering exactly why she always kept it tied back. Stupid fucking hair.
And then: ‘Dyke.’ Dawn whirled around, ready to cut a bitch, when she realized the slur wasn’t addressed at her. Instead, a lithe brunette stood, her papers scattered across the floor, looking somewhere between furious and mortified. Dawn felt a bubble of anger build up around her stomach and her hands automatically clenched into fists. Life was so fucking stupid.
The girl, Hummel, Dawn remembered, just stood there for a second in shock, before her shoulder slumped sadly and she knelt to pick the books and sheets up. A tragedy, because her skinny jeans were white, and Dawn was sure the floor is grubby enough to stain them.
The thing that really pissed her off was that everybody kept walking, like nothing had happened, like there wasn’t a flustered teenager with tears in her eyes frantically trying to collect all her work together while strangers walked right by her, barely even looking down.
Dawn let out another sigh, and took pity on the girl, closing her locker and leaning down. She said nothing until Hummel looked up at her with wide, questioning eyes. ‘You looked like you could use the extra hands.’ She said, shrugging as she handed the girl a French textbook.
‘Thanks.’ Hummel said, her eyes now fixed on the floor, and her cheeks slightly pinker than usual. They fell into an awkward silence, save for the shuffling of paper and the bustle around them. So, not really silence, just awkward.
Eventually, they get every piece of paper and book into a neat pile, and Hummel picked it up, carefully placing it in her very clean locker. She had a mirror too, Dawn noticed.
Shoving her hands in her pockets, she retreated back to her own locker and pulled her hair back to tie it up.
‘Don’t.’ Came a voice from the side of her. Hummel was smiling slightly, leaning around her locker door. ‘It looks much nicer when it’s down.’ Then she flounced down the corridor, her mood apparently improved.
Dawn glanced at her mirror again and twisted a wave of hair in her fingers. Okay… so maybe it wasn’t so fucking stupid after all.