Damn this locker. Whenever I need it to open in a hurry, it never does.

I was at my locker after school trying to get out my history notebook. I did tutoring after school and I had forgotten to grab all the materials I needed. It helped that my locker was being uncooperative.

“Stupid people at the stupid office assigning me a stupid locker that never opens,” I was muttering as I put in the combination again and tugged on the locker unsuccessfully.

“So you abuse inanimate objects as well?”

I turned to see Chase Jamison standing in the middle of the hallway, watching me with a slightly bemused expression on his face.

“Your head’s healed,” I said, turning away. “That’s good.”

“No thanks to you.”

I ignored his comment, pretending to focus on putting in the combination, even though now I was just entering random numbers and tugging on the lock.

I knew I shouldn’t have tripped him, but it made me mad when people got my name wrong. Seriously, who names their kids Jill nowadays anyway? I bet you I’m the only person in this entire school—or at least in my grade—named Jill. If he didn’t know my name, then I could’ve overlooked it. Well no, that would’ve made me mad too…

“Hey!”

I jumped a little. I had completely forgotten Chase was still there.

“Hurry up and open your locker already; practice starts in a little while and I need to change.”

“Then go change. I’m not stopping you.”

“The clothes I need are in my locker which you are currently blocking.”

“Then just wait,” I said, tugging unsuccessfully on my locker once more. Was it super-glued together? “I’ll have it open in a minute.”

Chase just rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, but didn’t protest. However, after ten minutes had passed and my locker still hadn’t opened, Chase had obviously had enough.

“Just move already; I’ll open it” he said, edging me over and grasping the lock, but I didn’t let go of the lock.

“No, I can open it; just give me a couple of seconds…”

“I’ve given you ten minutes and you aren’t any closer to opening it than you were before!”

“It’s just being stubborn is all; I can get it.”

“No, you can’t, just give me the combination already and I’ll open it.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

Like I said before, I’m smaller than he is, but I didn’t want him opening up my locker. I don’t like giving away my combination, not even to my friends. I definitely wasn’t going to give it to a stuck-up jock like Chase Jamison.

It probably would’ve been easier for Chase to just go to his locker and then leave while I continued my struggle with my locker. But, you know, that’s just not what happened.

Instead the two of us struggled a little longer, yanking on the lock until there was a creaking sound and we fell over.

I stared from the floor, dumbfounded by my locker which was now missing its door. Turning to my right, I saw Chase staring at the locker door which he was holding onto by its lock.

There was a moment of silence in which all we could do was stare, amazed at our own strength and stupidity.

“Look what you did!” I finally shouted, getting to my feet. I gestured angrily towards my door-less locker. “Thanks a lot for helping me open my locker, but now I need a door.”

“It’s not my fault,” said Chase, standing up so he was towering above me. The door was held limply in his hand. “If you had just given me the combination-“

“I could have opened it if only you had given me a bit more time-“

“Jamison!”

We stopped shouting and turned to see who the intruder was. I felt about ten pounds heavier as I saw Coach Stimson, who headed the basketball team, heading towards us.

“Shit,” I heard Chase whisper and he put the door behind him as if he could hide it.

“Fooling around during practice is unacceptable,” said Coach Stimson, stopping in front of us. He was shorter than most of the basketball players, but still taller than me, with thinning brown hair, a thin face, and a slightly bulky frame.

You know, most coaches aren’t in good shape. That’s something I could never understand; these guys are supposed to fit, after al they teach physical education. I think the only reason they take the coaching job is because they like to unfit people like them (and like me) suffer as they make us do push-ups and crunches and run the mile four times. It makes them feel good about themselves.

But I’m ranting. Coach Stimson now had his eyes on my locker and the door Chase was unsuccessfully trying to hide behind his back.

Stimson’s small eyes darted between me and Chase and back again suspiciously before he asked, “Jamison, what do you have behind your back?”

“Well, you see sir,” started Chase, “I was trying to help this girl—“

“Hardly,” I said, unable to hold my tongue.

“Please don’t make this any worse,” said Chase, turning to me. “Haven’t you done enough?” He held up the door.

“It’s not my fault!”

“Enough bickering!”

We silenced instantly at Stimson’s voice. One thing I can say about coaches is that they know how to command authority.

Stimson looked at me. “Anders right? You were in my class last year?"

I nodded.

“This is your locker?”

“And Jamison broke your locker door, correct?”

“Yes sir.”

“Now wait a—“

“Keep quiet Jamison!”

Chase instantly silenced but he was obviously seething. I swear waves of hatred were radiating off of him and continuously hitting me.

“Jamison, where’s your locker?” Stimson continued.

Meekly, Chase pointed towards the locker below mine.

“That’s convenient. Well then Jamison, you will be sharing a locker with Jill here until the school can issue her a new one.”

“What?”

Chase and I stared at Stimson incredulously, both of us dearly hoping that he was joking.

“Coach, I can’t share a locker with her. She’s crazy; you remember that scar on my head?”

“That was an accident!” I protested, momentarily forgetting the situation at hand.

“She’ll kill me coach,” said Chase, steadily ignoring me. “I seriously can’t share a locker with her.”

“Jamison, you broke this girl’s locker didn’t you?”

“Not on purpose, and if she hadn’t been so stubborn—“

“Jamison, answer the question: did you or did you not break her locker door off?”

Chase bit his lip and he stared at the floor, obviously struggling with the right answer.

“I helped sir,” I piped up before I could stop myself. I don’t know why I was sticking up for this guy; he hardly deserved it, but I did have a part in breaking off the door.

“Chase offered to open my locker for me because I was having trouble with it, but I refused, we started fighting and we…broke the door off,” I finished lamely. “Really, it’s both of our faults.”

Stimson stared at me, obviously trying to determine if I was telling the truth and it felt as if momentarily, the hatred waves had stopped.

“Well, whatever the case, the fact remains that Jamison broke the locker and you are without locker, correct?”

We both nodded.

“As compensation, Jamison, you will share a locker with Jill until the school can issue her a new one or this one is fixed. You,” he said, pointing at me, “will need to report this to the school office. Are there any questions?”

We shook our heads despite the fact that I was still unsatisfied with the idea of sharing a locker with Chase and he didn’t look too happy about it either.

“Good. Jamison, hurry up, get changed, and get down to practice. They’re doing terrible without you down there.”

“Yes sir.”

Stimson left an awkward atmosphere between the two of us, Chase standing there with the locker door in his hand and me staring dumbly at my locker.

“I guess that makes us roommates then,” I said, trying to sound cheerful but my voice came out cynically. I could feel the waves again.

Chase only glared at me before dropping the locker door and heading down the hallway.

“Hey, where are you going?” I shouted after him. “You never got your clothes!”

“I’m going home!” said Chase before he disappeared around the corner.

I looked at the locker door and at my locker. Damn. He never gave me his combination. And I had missed tutoring. Just great.