I’ve been sneaking into the locker room for three weeks.
Every Tuesday and Thursday after practice, when the building is supposed to be empty and the cleaning crew hasn’t arrived yet. I slip through the side door that doesn’t lock properly – the one I discovered by accident freshman year – and I find my spot behind the back row of lockers where no one ever goes.
And I watch.
I know it’s pathetic. I know it’s creepy. I know if anyone found out, I’d be expelled or arrested or at minimum become the campus cautionary tale everyone whispers about.
Did you hear about that weird girl who got caught perving on the football team?
But I can’t stop.
I’m nobody on this campus. Invisible. The kind of girl athletes look right through on their way to the sorority blondes with perfect t**s and i****
