Status: Active. (Based on the novel by Laurie Halse Anderson.)

Twisted

Twenty-Five

I went to my afternoon classes, but I was still having dizzy spells. The touch of Sean’s foot was still burning on my leg.
Principal Hughes interrupted the beginning of seventh period to state again, “for the record”, the details of the school dress code. Everything whoreish or somewhat interesting was banned, including bathing-suit tops and t-shirts encouraging the consumption of alcohol, drugs, or promiscuous behavior. Acceptable clothing including pants that rode above the waistline, shirts that reached down below the bellybutton and had sleeves, and skirts and shorts long enough to contact the knee.
Mrs. Harrison, my Art History teacher, spent the rest of the class talking about the beauty of the human body and showing a PowerPoint presentation of Botticelli and Rubens paintings. In US Government, Mr. Clarke hammered home the notion of self-determination and representation.

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The buzz caused by nearly naked girls and Sean Caine’s foot was gone by the end of the day, destroyed by my teachers. I was knee-deep in homework alligators and I needed help. I needed the Charismatic Enigma of Centennial High: Olivia “Gifted and Way Talented” Stecker.
But she was not at her car. I went to football practice. Not there, either. I checked the parking lot again, then the AV room. No Hardy.
Then I heard it.
Hardy had a very distinct scream.
She was in the locker room.

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