What the hell was that all about? Maybe he's mad at me for staring at him. Or, maybe he heard about the picture, and blames me for the murders, too. I run all possible scenarios through my head as I practically sprint to the locker room. I have never seen such an evil look in Jared's usually kind eyes. I stop at a tall wooden door and stare at the handle. My God, everyone I see I'm afraid of. I'm losing it! Even the janitor, whom I've been around almost every day for nearly fifteen years just gave me the chills.
“Pull your s**t together,” I whisper as I reach for the door.
The locker room is a small average 'Employees only' type of space. One wall contains a few tall metal lockers, a fridge, and a bulletin board. In the center of the room there are two small round tables with comfortably
