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Packed into a crowd of young faces, surrounded by alien smiles and unending gossip, I entered the shadow of Rosden City High School. It wasn’t, by any stretch of the saying, good to be back. The high school was an imposing, multi-leveled structure of red brick and tan concrete, an annex building directly to its side. A walkway encased in the same material connected the two, glass windows allowing me to see small figures walking inside. The thrum of school bus engines sitting at the curb was a constant background to the chatter of students as they stepped onto the green and made their way to the side entrance.

My shoulder bucked forward as someone pushed past me. There was enough space for me to see the offender- an average sized kid with short, scruffy brown hair. Without thinking, I took a step closer behind him. A heather gray hoodie dangled from behind his head. It was within reach, an easy way to pull him backwards and make him apologize. 

I took a deep breath instead. In through my nose, out through my mouth. Picking fights wasn’t what I was here for. Another deep breath. Stay calm. I felt on edge just being outside this place. I glanced over the collection of faces in the crowd as we inched closer to the entrance, looking for a distraction. There were a variety of different cultures and outfits among the students. Although the high school was located downtown, it was on its western edge, closer to the other districts. I had to give Rosden credit, the school buses covered most of the city. Students from downtown were packed in alongside those from the international district up north, the industrial area to the south and a large section of the residential district further west. Of course, I’d just taken a city bus. They didn’t have school bus stops for criminals who’d skipped most of their junior year.

The side entrance grew close, a pair of wide doors propped open for the flood of students. My fingers scratched at the edge of the outdated student ID sitting in my pocket. Anxiety had fully settled inside me now, shoulders tensing and chest pressing in on itself. I wouldn’t be able to make it leave until the job was finished. Nothing was daunting about it on paper, but as I approached the doors I just wanted to be done already. Memories of a year ago rose to the surface and I shoved them down, strangling them. My body’s shivers felt distant. 

Finding another distraction, I started to recite the specifics of the job to myself. I couldn’t help but imagine the writer with something of a fancy accent or inflection. The letter had used cursive despite being typed. 

This is a solo job. You would locate and acquire the guidance counselor’s student files inside Rosden City High School. They should still have physical copies. Do not be caught or make it known that they were stolen. It is acceptable that the school notices them missing at a later time. The reward would be $8,000. This would be wired to your account or provided in cash depending on your preference upon the job’s completion. Should you accept the job, the files would need to be acquired by this friday. Below is a phone number you may use to contact me with questions regarding the job or to let me know it is complete. 

Sincerely,

P

I’d texted the number provided just to let them know I would take the job, and there was a swift response thanking me and wishing me luck. Devin could never. I was already sold once I saw the $8,000 on the page, but manners never hurt. It was… Thursday, now. I’d needed to laze about in my apartment for two days after the ordeal Monday. It still didn’t feel real. Getting back to the way things should be was reassuring. Time to myself, a job I could only do solo, a fat chunk of money to live off of. It was with that thought that I passed through the threshold, stepping inside the high school. 

Seeing the red and yellow speckled pattern of the ash grey carpet and the frumpy-looking hall monitors, my stomach dropped. Right, need to get through this first. The side doors led into a wide, open room that stretched up four floors. A staircase snaked back and forth up along the back wall, students packed against each other as they started the trek to find their lockers. Others leant against the balconies overlooking the entrance, casual conversations echoing down to the floor. To the left and right were bland hallways stretching near the length of the building. Pale green lockers lined the walls, various pictures of staff with plastic smiles or meaningless school accolades hanging above them. 

The cafeteria was just a short ways down the left hallway. A growl crawled up from my stomach at the thought of the basic sandwiches and various slop prepared inside. The food here hadn’t been good persay, but it did the job, and I hadn’t had breakfast. Except, I reminded myself coldly, they won’t have anything ready until lunchtime. Bleh. I’d have to walk past the cafeteria to go towards the main entrance where the staff offices were around. My eyes flicked back to the winding staircase. The guidance counselor’s office was on the second floor, so I could just avoid thinking about food by going up and across-

“Student ID, young lady.”

Oh. A wrinkled hand was stretched outwards in my direction, palm up. The hall monitor asking me had a weary look on her face, and repeated the statement when I took a second to process what she said. Geez, a little patience would be nice. I slid the smooth card out from my pocket and placed it in her hand. She fussed with the graying bun of hair behind her head with a free hand while she squinted at the ID for what seemed like an age. Unless she had a scanner to bring up my record, it would check out. It had been hell to update my name and get a new picture after I transitioned. I wasn’t gonna toss my hard work away, even if I had never wanted to use the ID again. 

“Have a good day.” 

I took the student ID back as soon as the hall monitor held it out, tucking it in my pocket again. I hadn’t wanted to reply, but even if I did, the monitor had already turned around to annoy someone else. Well, all that meant was that I was free to make my way to the guidance counselor’s office. 

Ducking in and out of the press of students, I made my way to the staircase. I did my best to ignore the idiots who bumped past me and the ones who stared at their phones, holding up the crowd trying to get by. After a period of time longer than necessary, I groaned internally as I stepped onto the second floor. 

The way to the target was ingrained in my mind no matter how much I’d prefer to forget. Dread clutching my stomach, I was suddenly thankful for not having had breakfast. The big chairs that I was never quite comfortable to sit in, always a bit too hard or a bit too puffy. Yelling, raised tempers as my mom had fought on my behalf for the school to recognize me. That made me happy back then. After everything since, there was nothing when it played in my thoughts. Just… nothing. I remembered how lonely, cold it felt sitting in those big chairs after she was gone. My dad’s voice getting softer each visit as things deteriorated before I ended up alone for my check-ins. The counselor’s pitying eyes with nothing behind them. Listening to unrelated strategy after unrelated strategy when all I wanted was to have a semblance of my life again. 

A shuddering breath left my body, my feet having carried me to the hallway outside the administrative offices, overlooking the school’s main entrance. My head turned from side to side, noting a small crowd of students leaning on lockers and walking along the way to classrooms. 

Right, focus on the plan. Once the first period started the hallway would be emptier. There’d be less people around to see me get close to the guidance office. I took another deep breath. In through my nose, out through my mouth. How long was left to wait? I moved a healthy distance down the hallway, away from the crowd, finding a relatively empty spot by the lockers. There was a lone student a little bit away, but if they were off standing to the side, they wouldn’t bother me anyway. I was familiar with that type.

“Are you in a rock band or something?”

I startled in a brief moment of panic, head darting towards the source of the question. The lone student had stepped closer, blonde hair falling past her shoulders.

“What?”

“You know, ‘cuz of the clothes.” 

She made a sort of wide gesture towards my outfit. I guess that made sense given what I was wearing. My usual denim jacket sat over a white and black band tee tucked loosely into black jeans. 

“Nope, not in one.”

“Oh.” She paused, as if that was surprising. “You’re probably at least a fan of rock though.” 

It hadn’t been phrased as a question, and she was right. I just had to hope she wasn’t a junkie who was going to quiz me on all the genres. I gave a slight shrug. “Yeah, you got me.” How long was I going to have to entertain this conversation?

“What are your favorite genres, then?” Fuck. The girl leant in a bit closer and I could see her eyes widening. There were heavy bags under them. Actually, her whole face looked tired. A light smattering of freckles covered pale, slightly sunken cheeks. 

“Uh… I don’t really listen to any one specific genre.” 

“You can’t name a single favorite?” Her voice was soft and matter-of-fact, at odds with the pressure she was applying. It felt like her eyes were boring holes into me. I racked my brain for memories of George going over albums at the store.

“Metal.” He’d talked about getting a new batch. “And Punk.” I quickly added afterwards.

“Yeah, those are two good ones. I’ve been trying to listen to more of them, actually. Are there any bands you’d recommend?” 

I was coming to terms with this talk not ending anytime soon. I needed to pass the time until the first period anyway. Band names were something I could do, it was just getting the genre right which was the challenge.

“Paramore for Metal, and Mastodon for Punk. I like those two a lot.” 

“Oh, good taste. And you were close on the genres, but had them flipped.” A hint of a smile crept up from her lips and I realized she’d been backing me into a corner on purpose. Well, not like I was ever going to talk to her again. May as well be honest.

“Yeah, I uh, don’t really pay attention to genre. As long as it's loud, it's usually something I can get into.”

The girl’s smile grew ever so slightly. “You know, you present as a punk, but you’re really more of a dork.”

That… was not something I had any kind of response ready for. Thankfully, she recognized as I stared blankly that one wasn’t coming.

“Sorry.” Her whole body tensed up for a second as she apologized, face scrunching then relaxing as if it never happened as she continued. “I’m Leah, by the way.”

Leah’s eyes lost most of their piercing power, but remained set on me, waiting quietly. She stared like a raccoon caught stealing in the middle of the night. 

“I’m Audrey.” I could’ve taken more time to think about lying, but hiding my name from her just seemed… pointless. 

Leah’s stare continued, and she almost mumbled her response. “Good to meet you, Audrey.” The earlier hints of a smile vanished, and her tone had grown solemn. Silence set in and quickly grew uncomfortable. Only the low, persistent chatter of gossiping students down the hall filled the space. I knew I was supposed to come up with something to say, but this kind of talk was like another language to me. Did I even want to? There’s still an amount of time left to waste, but I could always say bye and burn it somewhere else, or-

“How… how’d you first get into rock music?” My mouth rushed something out and I resisted the urge to wince. A weight settled on my body, growing heavier the longer Leah took to answer. 

“It was, uh… freshman year. One of my friends joined a band and invited me to their concert. I really enjoyed the music, and it went from there.” Leah’s expression remained static as she answered, even while talking about what seemed like a good memory. 

“Oh. That kinda explains why you first thought…”

“Yeah.” Leah gave a short nod.

“Are you still friends?”

“No.”

Oh. Her answer was robotic, knocking the wind right out of me. As I still grappled with what to say next, Leah pressed on.

“What about you? When’d you start listening?” Her expression relaxed some after asking the question, eyes holding a spark of interest.

From my Mom. I couldn’t get the words out. Not in a rush like before. Not without thinking. Leah’s body tensed again. She was staring.

A harsh ring raked through the air, stunning me out of the spiral. The bell for first period. It was time to finish the job. Tension poured out of me with a long exhale, even as I noticed Leah’s stare hadn’t stopped. 

“It was good talking to you, Leah.”

“Yeah.” She fiddled with her backpack, glancing down the hallway. “You too, Audrey.”

Small crowds of students were filtering into the classrooms, and Leah walked past me, in the opposite direction of the school offices. Perfect. I moved forward, slipping between the current of faces who paid me no interest. A glass wall separated the hallway from the offices, giving me a clear view of the orderly waiting room that connected all of them. It was overly sanitized, chairs and desks arranged just a bit too precisely. They likely intended for the room to be inviting, but it felt uncanny instead. A secretary’s seat off to the left was empty. My attention landed on a doorway in the middle, identical to the others except for the gut-dropping feeling it triggered. The guidance counselor’s office. 

The door had been swung open and the lights were on. A familiar, stout looking woman was hunched over a computer, absorbed in whatever she was doing. Against the back wall was a tall shelf filled with thick books and heavy, labeled crates. I’d left my “pocket” light for this job. Pacing to my right along the hallway, I did my best to look casual, another student trailing others late to class. As I walked, I found the angle I needed. Tucked into the shelf was a crate I’d seen the counselor comb through countless times. Manila folders stuffed the thing full, colored tabs and sticky notes creating a rainbow across the top. This is it. I traced the edges of the crate I could see, the shape locked in my head.  Now I just-

“Audrey?”

I lost the target, whipping around to see a confused Leah looking at me, head tilted. What was she doing here? Damnit, why now?

“Weren’t you going to class?”

“Weren’t you? I started walking the wrong way, so I turned around.”

Fuck, how was it all unraveling so fast? My brain drew a blank trying to think of a response. I wasn’t supposed to stand out or give people any clue I was responsible. 

“Yeah… I was trying to remember what I have for first period today.” 

Again, the unnerving stare. Leah took her time to respond or even show any signs she was going to. What the hell was her problem? 

“You seem scared. Like you’re doing something you shouldn’t.” A true statement, but she had no way of knowing that. I suppressed a shiver anyway. Leah couldn’t talk to me here forever, at least if she cared about being late to class. But she could take long enough I’d lose all my cover as the hallway emptied out completely. Running into another hall monitor would be a disaster. As I racked my brain on a distraction or any kind of new plan, she continued, “Are you a returning student?” 

“Basically. It’d be a lot to explain.” Also a true statement. As Leah nodded, an idea formed. All I had to do was steer the conversation to the principal or admin offices. A moment’s glance made to feel natural would be enough to find the student files again. I pressed forward. “I was thinking about asking the secretary, but I don’t want to deal with all that.”

“How come?” Leah’s response was instant. I didn’t even have a chance to turn my head away. Fewer and fewer students were passing by us, classroom doors starting to swing closed. This was slipping even further out of my control. I was out of time, it had to be now. Which meant I needed a good response.

I forced myself to push through the hollow sensation spreading from my stomach and think of what to say. It would be one unpleasant moment, then I’d be done. That’s what I wanted. My throat felt like it was cracking before I even opened my mouth. Forcing it into the open air made me feel weak.

“I had… a bad experience. With them before.” With the words still hanging, I looked. Past the chairs that buried you deeper as you sunk into them. Past the desk cluttered with useless links and phone numbers. Past the woman who only made me feel more useless. Past all the memories. I found the box crammed with student files, eyes tracing its edges once more. It blurred out of existence. I turned my gaze back to Leah.

“I’m sorry.” Leah’s voice was gentle, real. As the box settled into my “pocket”, it didn’t feel as heavy as I thought it would. My body wasn’t as distant either. 

“It’s okay.” A pause, then I continued. “Statistics is my first period, I remembered.”

Leah nodded. “That’s good- I need to get going to mine too. See you around, Audrey.”

“Yeah. See you around.” I started walking away, giving a wave as I tried to remember the fastest way to the annex building. It was easy to slip out through one of the side doors there if you wanted to cut school-

“Oh, and if you’re a returning student, don’t make any more trouble for yourself than you need to!” Leah called out, halting my train of thought. When I turned around, she had already done the same, passing around a corner and out of sight. 

                                                                  ***

Escaping the walls of Rosden City High School was thankfully little trouble. I sucked in the brisk air, letting the stress slip out of me as I exhaled. I’d had a scary moment or two where I narrowly avoided a hall monitor seeing me, but I’d gone mostly unnoticed. Mostly. I didn’t think Leah would be a problem. Even if she thought I was acting weird, nothing would have led to her thinking I was stealing right under her nose. I told her more truths about myself than I should’ve, but the thought didn’t stress me out. After all, I’d saved a lie for the very end. See you around. 

I slid my burner phone out of my pocket, tapping through menus to find the number I wanted. The rest of the day was mine to do whatever I wanted with now. That thought comforted me as I typed up a message. It was short and simple.

Job complete.

I’d only made it a few steps before my phone buzzed with the response.

Excellent. A representative will be in contact soon.