Til Death Do Us Part

chapter nine ~ let me in

If I told anyone my life passed normally for the next four days, they probably never would have believed me.
I barely did myself.

On the fifth day though, I was almost surprised by my run-in with Charlotte, who seemed to have gone and regrouped with her evil minions and helpers, and now seemed to have the perfect revenge for my upstanding.

As I reached my locker on that Tuesday morning, I was utterly horrified.
People were stood around it, taking photos and laughing, and I could barely bring myself to go and unlock it.

Pushing through the crowd, I got myself a clearer view.

Stuck to my locker with what looked like red maple syrup and treacle were tampons. Some new, some puffed up and soaked in a red substance.
Although my stomach turned, I could tell it wasn't real blood. It was too pink, and yet it was enough to make me feel like I was about to cry my eyes out.

The bell rang for first lesson, and people began to disperse, after taking a few more photos.

It wasn't likely any bell would make them do that - no, the reason people were moving away was because Al was now stood beside me, his face set in a deep scowl, as he folded his arms and demanded they "keep walking" and that there was "nothing to see here."

My eyes fell onto Charlotte, who was stood beside another girl, her mouth set in a smug line.

They both snickered, and I felt my skin burning with anger, and embarrassment.
Part of me wanted to go and confront her. The other told me to leave it alone. But I shouldn't have.

As Charlotte disappeared around the corner, throwing a smug look over her shoulder in my direction, I angrily turned to my locker and began peeling the tampons off it, slinging them into the trash can across the hall with a shout of anger, proceeding to kick the wastebasket.

Al simply leaned against my locker, his eyebrow raised.

Once I had calmed down slightly, he stood up straight.
"So," he said, "what're you gonna do about it?"

Breathlessly, I looked up at him.
"What?"

A wicked smile had stretched across his face.
"She covered your locker in a woman's private, oh-so-offending objects. What're you gonna do about it?"

I scoffed, "They're called tampons, Al. Tampons. What is it with boys and not saying that word?"

He grinned, rolling his eyes, "Okay then, Faye - Charlotte Manson stuck bloody tampons to your locker, except it wasn't real blood, and everyone found it funny and they're making a fool of you out of it. What's your revenge tactic?"

For a moment, I was stunned. The logical response was to tell a teacher. Maybe try and sort things out with Charlotte (except that option was practically out of order now), or even to just ignore it. Bullies got bored.

But deep down, I liked Al's one-track mind. The thought of uprooting Charlotte was comedic, and it made me feel sort of happy. It made me feel like Al was probably considered a friend to me, too. He wanted to help me.

So I took a deep breath, and peeled the remaining dry treacle off my locker door.

"Okay," I said with a small smile, "revenge. We get revenge."

Al gave me a thump on the back, "'Atta girl."

•••

My clock read half three in the morning.
Although I was glad that Al had helped me formulate the perfect revenge plan for Charlotte Manson, I couldn't help but feel a little nervous.