It All Started with a Lie

Chapter 1

Emma nodded, fear glimmering in her eyes. Our competitors split up, rushing to complete their challenge. Emma and I joined them, running together until we were forced to separate, her heading towards the bell tower, me towards the professor's office.

Professor Hammon's has been a pain in my ass since I started this school. He had a hatred for sports, and regularly timed exams during major events: football games, showcases, swim meets, etc.. Stealing his favorite golden pen would be a pleasure, payback for all those test he flunked me on because I had dance rehearsal. I tried my best to stay hidden, sheltering in the shadows of my hood and keeping close to the walls, where the cameras would struggle to reach me. I could not risk losing my scholarship by getting caught.

The walk to the science hall wasn't a long one and I arrived in no time, sneaking in through the broken back door that administration never seemed to get around to fixing and just simply prayed the students wouldn't discover it. We did. I took the first turn in the hall to the staircase that leads to the basement. Professor Hammon's class was the furthest away from any and all exit points, exactly the way he likes it as he put it. Just as his door came into view, my phone buzzed in my pocet with the special vibration I'd reserved for Emma. I sighed, wondering what possibly could have gone wrong in the ten minutes we'd been apart. I tucked myself into the corner of the wall and answered. "Hey, what's up?"

She could barely get her words out between frantic breaths. "Turns out, I might be just like, a little afraid of heights."

You have got to be kidding me. "What?"

She drew in a sharp breath, her words tumbling together. "I am afraid of heights. I can't do this. I made it to the roof and now I am stuck. I need help!"

I took a look at the clock, knowing there wasn't enough time for me to help her and make it back here to find the pen. "Just stay were you are. I'll grab the pen and meet you on the roof. Just close your eyes and try not to think about where you are." We came into this together and I'd be damned if we didn't end together.

"Right, yeah. Definitely not sitting a hundred and sixty feet off the ground."

Our bell tower was one of the tallest in the state, built one brick higher than it's precessor, which burned down sixteen years ago. "Exactly!"

I said my goodbyes, leaving her to her fears and finished my walk to the professor's office. To my surprise, the door was locked. His lock had been broken for months. Just my luck he decides to replace it exactly when I need it to be broken. I cursed under my breath and scanned the area for another way in. There were no windows leading into his room, no exits, just this one door. Definitely not the place you want to be during a fire. With no other ideas, I resorted to disparity and dropped to my knees, pulling a Bobby pin from my hair. I had seen this hundreds of times on tv, never truly tried it though. As kids, my brother and I once tried to break into the pool house by picking the lock. We spent nearly twenty minutes on it before we realized our mother had accidentally left it unlocked. Needless to say, picking a lock was not my strong suit. But I would try nevertheless. My limited knowledge from the great adventures of Kim Possible told me that I needed to listen for the individual lock picks to open before pushing the Bobby pin further, but as I inserted the bobby pin, there was not sound to be heard, nothing to be felt. I didn't even know where to begin, and ten minutes of struggling got me no closer to that golden pen, so instead, with the Bobby pin still stuck inside the lock, I grabbed the handle with both hands, took a deep breath, and shook the door as hard as I possibly could, begging it to open and when that didn't work, I tried it again. Still nothing. I thought maybe if I shook it harder, some god would feel my disparity and take pity on me and open the door.

"What did that door ever do to you?" A voice asked.

I stilled, desperately trying to come up with some sort of story as to why I am kneeling before the Professor's door trying to rip it off the hinges. I came up with nothing. "What can I say, it's getting in my way." I released the door knob and stood to my feet, turning to face the voice. I examined the stranger, hidden by the shadows, and prayed that he was not a resource officer. By the size of him, he just might be. His silhouette towered above mine, despite my heels, in a perfectly chiseled figure, like something out of a movie. He took a few steps closer, close enough that I could almost make the outline of his clothes: pants and a button up. Not a resource officer. Unarmed, so long as you don't count his bulging muscles which he was clearly flexing intentionally, perhaps to look intimidating, perhaps to impress me. Most likely the latter. He does not need to flex to look intimidating, the sheer size of him would be enough to make most tremble. "Do you mind if I?" He gestured to the door.