Marked
Depressing.
I thought of all my other schools, of how I would rush to find my locker, to open it, to memorize the combination, and to line the door with pictures of boys from magazines. It was my way of making myself at home.
But somewhere along the line, a few schools ago, I stopped trying.
I closed the door with a bang.
“Caitlin?”
I jumped.
Standing there, a foot away, was Jonah.
He wore large sunglasses. I could see that the skin beneath them was swollen.
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