Robert still didn't get it. "And what are sanitary napkins?" he asked, staring into one of the stalls."I don't know," Chris said. "Very clean ones?" A...y further remarks were cut off when they heard the outer door open. Robert peeked out of the inner door."It's a teacher! Hide!" he whispered loud enough for his friends to hear.They each chose a stall, and locked themselves inside just before they would have been discovered. They waited a few minutes before the teacher finally left, then let out. I can hear them in other classrooms too, out across the hall and in the rooms above.Uh... god it hurts... ... So tight... fuck.It's like overhearing things you shouldn't or reading someone's journal. All these whispered secrets of betrayal. Social politics of the playground. Adults that are more innocent than some of my peers. It's only when I mention things I shouldn't that there is bloodshed. Home time with bruises and once a broken bone. Parents don't care, and everyone thinks I'm spying on. More

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