![]() ![]() ![]() No janitor has chilled in this closet for a very long time. A cracked mirror tilts over a sink littered with dead roaches crocheted together with cobwebs. A stained armchair and an old-fashioned desk peek from behind a collection of mops and brooms. The back wall has built-in shelves filled with dusty textbooks and a few bottles of bleach. I haven’t stumbled into a classroom it is an old janitor’s closet that smells like sour sponges. I feel the wall next to the door until I find a light switch. I hear his footsteps lumber down the hall. ![]() I turn a corner, open a door, and step into darkness. I don’t have time to worry about the looks I’m getting. I am in foreign territory where No Freshman Has Gone Before. I cut through the lunch line, loop around a couple making out by the door, and start down a hall. Neck tracks me through the cafeteria, demanding my “Twenty Ways the Iroquois Survived in the Forest” homework. I don’t come up with my brilliant idea right then and there. There’s not enough time for a nap, so I check out a stack of books to make the librarian happy. She thinks I’m overcome with emotion because she didn’t bust me. I smile and try to choke out a “thank you,” but can’t say anything. She holds up a small green pad-my get-out-of-jail-free cards. If you think you’re going to be late, just ask a teacher for a late pass. You are Melinda Sordino, right? Don’t worry. ![]()
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