Cutler 01 - Dawn

shut, and hurried out of the locker room. Soon everyone but me was leaving.
    "Please!" I cried. "Who knows where my clothes are?"
    "They're being washed," someone called back.
    "Washed? What does that mean? Washed?"
    I spun around, the towel still tucked in over my body. I was alone in the locker room. The bells were ringing. What was I going to do?
    I started looking everywhere, under benches, in corners, but I found nothing until I went into the bathroom and checked the stalls.
    "Oh, no!" I cried. They had thrown my clothes into the toilet. There was my pretty dress, my bra, and my panties. Even my socks, soaking with toilet paper floating around it all for good measure. And the water was discolored. Someone had urinated in there, too!
    I fell back against the stall door and sobbed. What was I going to do?
    "Who's left in here?" I heard Mrs. Allen ask.
    "It's me," I bawled. She stepped into the bathroom.
    "Well, what are you . . ."
    I pointed down at the toilet, and she gazed into the stall.
    "Oh, no. Who did this?"
    "I don't know, Mrs. Allen."
    "I don't have any trouble guessing," she said sternly.
    "What will I do?"
    She thought a moment, shaking her head.
    "Fish them out and we'll put them in the washer and dryer with the towels. In the meantime, you will have to wear your gym uniform."
    "To classes?"
    "There's nothing else you can do, Dawn. I'm sorry."
    "But . . . everyone will laugh at me."
    "It's up to you. You will miss a few classes by the time this is all washed and dried out. I'll go to see Mrs. Turnbell and explain what happened."
    I nodded and lowered my head in defeat as I walked back to my locker to put on my gym uniform.
     
    As the morning went on, I found most of my teachers to be kind and sympathetic once they heard what had happened, but the rest of the students thought it was very funny, and everywhere I looked I found them smiling and laughing at me. It was always hard to face new students whenever I went to a new school, but here, before I even got a chance to meet anyone and anyone got a chance to know me, I was the laughingstock.
    When Jimmy saw me in the hallway and I told him what had happened, he was outraged.
    "What did I tell you about this place?" he said loud enough for most of the students around us in the hallway to hear. "I'd just like to know who did it, that's all. I'd just like to get my hands on her."
    "It's all right, Jimmy," I said, trying to calm him down. "I'll be all right. After the next class my clothes should be washed and dried." I didn't mention the fact that my dress would be wrinkled and need ironing. I didn't want him to get any angrier than he was.
    The warning bell for the next class rang.
    Jimmy scowled so hard at the students who were staring at us that most turned their heads away as they rushed to get to class.
    "I'll be all right, Jimmy," I insisted again before starting toward my math class.
    "I'd like to know who did it!" he called after me. "Just so I could wring her neck." He said it loud enough for everyone who was left in the hallway to hear.
    As soon as I entered class, the teacher called me to his desk.
    "You're Dawn Longchamp, I assume," he said.
    "Yes, sir." I looked at the class, and of course, all the students were looking at me, smiles on their faces. "Well, we'll introduce ourselves later. Mrs. Turnbell wants to see you immediately," he said.
    "The Longchamp girl is here," Mrs. Turnbell's secretary announced as I entered the reception room. I heard Mrs. Turnbell say, "Send her in." The secretary stepped back and I entered.
    Mrs. Turnbell's gaze was icy as she asked me to explain what had happened.
    With my stomach jumping up and down and my voice shaking, I told her how I had come out of the shower and found my clothing in the toilet.
    "Why would anyone do that to a new girl?" she asked. I didn't respond. I didn't want to get into any more trouble with the other girls, and I knew that was exactly what would happen if I mentioned the smoke.
    But she knew already!
    "You don't have to explain. Mrs. Allen told me how you turned in Clara Sue Cutler for smoking."
    "I didn't turn her in. I saw smoke coming from this locker and—"
    "Now, listen to me," Mrs. Turnbell ordered, leaning over her desk, her pale face going first pink, then red. "The other students at this school have been brought up in fine homes and have a head start on how to get along with other people. But that doesn’t mean I will allow you and your brother to come in here and disrupt