>You wheel your bike into school and lock it at the bike rack.
>As you walk through the front doors, you check your watch again.
>40 minutes until class starts.
>Man, what would you do without your watch?
>You decide to just putz around in the halls to kill time.
>You start making your way down the Junior-year locker halls.
>As you round a corner, you notice someone down the way who appears to be struggling with their locker, but you can’t make them out.
>You walk closer towards them, and it looks like the locker you had last year.
>No surprise, that damn thing gave you problems your first few weeks of using it, until you figured out the trick to open it.
>You reach the person at the locker.  They’re wearing a blue hoodie with yellow piping, with the hood up.
>Still can’t see who it is.
“Hey, try giving it a good bash on the upper left corner while you’ve got the knob turned.”
>The person hears your advice and attempts to pound on the upper left corner of the locker door.
>BAM!
>Nothing.
“Give it a little more ‘oomph.’”
>Once more.
>BAM!
>Still nothing…they aren’t hitting it in the exact spot.
“Here, I’ll give you a hand.  Just hold the knob for now, and keep your head low.”
>The student nods and holds the combination knob ready.
>You square up the sweet spot on the corner of the locker door and deliver a sharp blow.
>BAM!!!
>The locker door finally gives and rattles open.
>”Finally!  Thank you so much.  I’ve been struggling with this door for 15 minutes now…”
>Wait, that voice sounds familiar…
>As the student turns around, you notice those aquamarine eyes almost instantly.
>Blossomforth.
>Hot damn.
>”Anon!”
>Her face instantly lights up as she wraps her arms around your neck for a tight hug.
>She smells so nice.
>No perfume or anything like that, just that natural “girl” smell.
>You wrap your arms around her waist and return the hug.
“Hey!  How are you, Blossom?  How funny is it that you got my old locker, huh?”
>She gently pulls away from the hug, giggling.
>”Yeah, what a coincidence.  The fact that it was your old locker…”
>You look over at her and notice a slight blush in her cheeks.
>Freaking adorable.
>You look up and scrutinize the locker door.
“Y’know, let me take a look at this for a second…”
>”Oh, okay.”
>She steps aside to let you take a look.
>You start inspecting the locker door to see where the paint is rubbed off.  It might give you a clue as to what is making it so hard to open the door.
>Nothing apparent on the door, so you check the locker frame instead.
>As you scan down the frame, you see that the bottom hook where the door latches is bent.
>Bingo.
“Okay, I can fix this.”
>Blossom bounces a little, excited.
>”You can?”
“Yeah.  I mean, I should be able to.  It doesn’t seem too hard.  I put up with this damn locker all last year, and I wouldn’t want the next person to have to deal with it if they don’t have to.  Especially since…”
>Blossomforth noticed that you trailed off.
>”Especially since…what?”
>Your face feels a little warm, and you try to hide your blush.
“Heh, wouldn’t you like to know!”
>You turn your head over to her and playfully stick out your tongue.
>”Ah, hey!”
>You can’t help but chuckle at your teasing of her.
“Anyway, grab all the stuff you’ll need for the first half of your day, and then meet me by your locker during lunch.  I’ll get it fixed for you then, sound good?”
>She smiles and nods enthusiastically.
>”Okay!”
“Alright, I’ll see you then!”
>She waves at you while you walk off to your class.
>So, she’s a junior, huh?
 
>Your morning classes go by smoothly, and soon the lunch bell rings.
>This time, you head to the shop classroom instead of the cafeteria.
>As you enter the classroom, you see that the shop teacher, Mr. Doodle, is still at his desk.
>You greet him in a respectful manner.
“Good morning, Mr. Doodle, sir!”
>The gruff teacher looks up from his workbook and sees you.
>”Anonymous?  What brings you here?  It’s lunch break for students, and you aren’t in any of my classes this year…”
>You had Mr. Doodle as your teacher for shop class last year.
>While he seems intimidating, it’s really just a front he puts up.  Those that know him know that he’s a pretty considerate guy.
“Well, sir, I have a request.”
>”Go on, I’m listening.”
“May I borrow a pair of pliers from the tool chest for a short while?”
>Mr. Doodle cocks an eyebrow.
>”What for, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Do you remember the locker that I had last year, the one that was really tough to open?  I may have found the issue, and I want to fix it for good.”
>The teacher furrows his brow and scratches his chin a little in thought.
>”That sounds harmless enough…but you don’t have that locker anymore, right?  Why would you want to fix it now of all times?”
“Well, I found out today that a friend of mine has it now, and while I was able to deal with it then, I don’t feel they need the extra trouble.”
>A slight look of surprise came across Mr. Doodle’s face.
>”That’s…oddly considerate of you.  You always kept to yourself in my class.  Must be someone you consider special.”
>You tilt your head slightly downward and rub your brow with your thumb and middle finger in slight frustration.
>You were hoping the conversation wouldn’t go down this route.
>You try to end it quickly so you can grab what you need and go.
“Yeah, yeah she is…”
>You catch yourself too late.
>You hadn’t intended on saying “she.”
>Damnit.
>”Oh ho!  A lady, even!  Trying to score some brownie points, I take it?”
>Ergh…please let this be over with.
>Mr. Doodle chuckles.
>”Ah, youth.  Well, alright, I’ll lend you a pair of pliers.  Just be sure to bring them back when you’re done, okay?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Doodle, sir.”
>Thank god.
>You walk over to the tool chest and grab a pair of pliers from one of the drawers.
“Thanks again, Mr. Doodle.”
>”Don’t mention it, Sonny.”
 
>You leave the classroom and head back to Blossom’s locker.
>You see her there with her arms crossed, lightly tapping her foot in mock impatience.
>She’s got a cheeky little smirk on her face.
>”What took you so long, huh?”
>You roll your eyes at her and smirk back.
“Oh, hush, you.”
>She sticks her tongue out at you.
>Chance!
>Before she can pull her tongue back in, you quickly grab it between your index finger and thumb of your right hand.
>Her eyes snap open in surprise as she sees what just happened.
>”Ah?! Hey!”
>You chuckle devilishly at her.
“Haha, what are you gonna do now, hmm?”
>She struggles a little, but soon something dawns on her, and a wickedly evil look soon comes across her face.
>Uh oh.
>She opens her mouth and quickly takes your index finger into it.
>Your eyes widen and your jaw slackens slightly.
>She starts suckling on it lightly, her tongue dancing along your fingertip.
>Guh…!
>You feel your face start to burn up, and you quickly glance around to make sure no one is nearby before returning your stunned gaze back to Blossomforth.
>Her eyes are locked on yours as she begins to bob her head, taking your finger completely into her mouth.
>Her tongue is now swirling around your finger.
>You inhale sharply.
>This is incredibly hot, and as such, you’re at full mast.
>ALL SAIL, FULL SAIL!
>If she had broken her lock on your eyes, she would have noticed it by now.
>You know for a fact, though, that she knows exactly what’s going on.
>This is too good, but you realize that this can’t go on for much longer.
>It takes a considerable amount of willpower to regain control of yourself and the situation.
“Hey, are you gonna let me fix your locker or not?”
>She pauses for a second, and her eyes turn up as if in thought.
>As if she’s weighing the risks of teasing you further.
>”Hmmmm…”
>You give her a look that says “Seriously?  Are we really doing this?”
>”Oh fine!”
>She relinquishes your finger from her mouth, leaving a trail of saliva still connected from your fingertip to the tip of her tongue.
>You look at your finger, still glistening with her spit, and make a split decision.
>You pop your finger in your mouth and suck off what she left behind.
>It tastes sweet.
>That caught her attention, alright.
>She reddens and fidgets a little.
>”You bastard…”
> You laugh a little at that remark.
>Now you’ve gotten a glimpse of what you could expect on Friday night, and you aren’t complaining.
“Alright, let’s fix this damned thing already.”
>You manage to open her locker with no issue.
>They never changed the combo on the lock.  Aren’t they supposed to do that every school year?
>You wonder for a second if it’s the same case for all the other lockers in the school.
>Might wanna let the administration know about that.
>You swing open the locker door and pull the pair of pliers from your pocket.
>You use the pliers to bend the frame hook back to its original position.
>You then slowly close the locker door, keeping an eye on that hook to make sure it doesn’t catch on anything else.
>The door seems to latch shut with no resistance.
“Okay, that might have done it.  Let’s make sure.”
>You quickly dial in the locker combo again and pull open the door effortlessly.
>Not bad.
>Not bad at all.
“Well, I’d call that fixed.”
>She huffs lightly, seemingly frustrated still from being cut off of her finger sucking early.
>”Well thank you, Anon.  At least I don’t have to deal with a bum locker anymore.”
>She turns around and sticks her tongue at you again, but doesn’t give you the chance to grab it.
>She’s still frustrated.
>Good.
>If you play your cards right, and you better, you can capitalize on this later.
>Wow, when did this side of you come about?
>You take a quick glance at your watch.
>30 minutes left for lunch.
“Alright, I’ve gotta get the pliers back to the shop class.  I’ll be heading to the cafeteria for the rest of lunch afterward.  If you want to talk some, you can find me in the outdoor patio area.”
>Maybe we can have an actual conversation, for once.
 
>You stop by the shop class and return the pliers back to their place in the tool chest.
>You head to the door to leave, and as you pass by Mr. Doodle, he simply looks at you and nods in appreciation for returning school property.
>You make your way to the cafeteria and grab a cheeseburger and fries to eat.
>Kinda surprising that there’s any food left at this time.
>You head out to the outdoor patio and sit down at an empty table.
>You’re barely able to take a bite of your burger before you see Blossomforth come outside through the cafeteria doors.
>You quickly wave her over to your table.
>She takes a seat across from you.
>The frustration she showed earlier appears to have subsided.
>You know better, though.
>”Ok, so what’s up, Anon?”
>You finish chewing your bite of cheeseburger and swallow it down.
“Well, I thought we should get to know each other a little more.”
>You notice a pensive expression appear on her face, guarded, even?
>”…okay.”
>She seemed a little hesitant in her answer.  Something is definitely on her mind.
>Choose your words carefully, Anon.
>You pick what you feel is a safe first question.
“I can’t say I’ve seen you around school until yesterday.  Did you transfer here?”
>”Yeah, I did.  My family and I had to move from our old town, since my dad got a new job near here.”
“Oh?  What does he do, if you don’t mind me asking?”
>”He’s in the military.  He’s a warrant officer in the Army.”
>…Oh boy.
>You recall what you learned in your history classes in your previous year.
>Weren’t the warrant officers those who were initially in the enlisted corps and then got commissioned later on?
>Salty and weight on the shoulders.
>You’ve got your work cut out for you.