29
Heather
Freshman year
My. f*****g. Bag. Wouldn’t. Budge.
These damn lockers needed to be bigger. Honestly. I mean, come on. How can we keep all of our crap in these small things for an entire year? Some of us had real items to stuff in here—like books, and bags, and food, and the occasional liquor bottle (don’t judge me), and hello? What if I wanted to put an overnight bag in here? Or someone else’s overnight bag, such as Channing’s, because who knew where he slept most nights.
Actually, it was his bag I was trying to pull out of my locker. Why he hadn’t used his own locker, I wasn’t sure. There was always a reason with him, but he’d gotten more and more vague with his explanations. I hadn’t wanted to start a fight (another one), so I’d just grabbed his bag and thrown my whole body
