No locks on lockers. We reserve the right to look through students' lockers at any time for any reason.

The hallways are eerily quiet as I open my locker. I'm here for one thing, to get my Algebra 1, Grade 9 textbook out of my locker and make it back down to the first floor in time for class. Because here at Springfield Christian Academy, passing times are a myth, and the hallways are so long and the school so big that making it to class on time, or God forbid early, is a true rarity.

No one's congregating by the lockers and talking like they would at any other school. I've seen the movies, the girls stand by their lockers gossiping about who likes who and all that jazz. I've never gotten the chance to do that. Sure, I see some girls going to their lockers and I've waved to a few of them, but they never wave back. They're too busy trying to be the perfect girls that the school wants them to be and get to class on time. I get it, this place is strict, and the kids here worked their butts off to get to where they stand. Examinations, interviews, their grades from past schools, it takes a lot to get into Springfield and takes all your nerve to stay. I'm surprised I still have any nerve to stay in this place after three years.

We strongly discourage dating between boys and girls.

"Hey!" I hear someone say. I turn around and there's Tyler Martinez, standing by my locker. I smile and shut the door, looking into Tyler's eyes. I've been sorta "dating" Tyler for the better part of middle school, though I would probably consider it more of a QPR than actually dating.

Why? I don't quite think I'm bisexual anymore like I used to be.

"Hey, um, Tyler, I need to talk to you, but I'm gonna be late for class if I stand here any longer, so can we talk at lunch or at gym or something? You know if I get one more tardy on my record, that's three detentions, which equals a suspension, which equals my mom freaking out." I said.

"Understandable." Tyler said. I let out a sigh of relief. "Later, I guess?"

"Yeah. Maybe." I wave goodbye to Tyler as we both run down the hall in opposite directions. I make it to my next class just in the nick of time, the tardy bell rings right after I slide into my seat and pull out my notebook. School rules: if you're not in your seat with all required materials on your desk, you're tardy for class. Being present means you're in the room and prepared for the day. Stupid, I know.

I see the teacher give me a dirty look and I wonder if it's from me getting into class right at the last minute. I straighten out my hair and realize why.

A boy's hair length should be above the eyebrows, above ears, and off the collar.

My messy, unkempt light brown hair was growing out a bit. Shoot. If I didn't get a haircut soon, as much as I would hate one, I would get in trouble. And I've been in trouble enough.

I'm too busy panicking about my hair to realize that the school headmaster was in the room.

"CAMDEN PATRICKS TO MY OFFICE, NOW!"