He poured the chemical onto the rag, as he heard Christina's approaching footsteps. He pulled out a rag and a clear vial of chloroform. Marty watched from a shadowy corner as the pretty girl swept her blonde hair behind her ear and drank deeply. She walked down the gloomy hallway, her shoes tapping a steady rhythm. Still, she couldn't help feeling she was being watched. She had a very vivid imagination, which was playing tricks on her at the moment. "Maybe I shouldn't have watched that Stephen King movie last night", she mused to herself. The hallway was very dim after school hours and she felt a bit apprehensive. She got up to go to the water fountain and stretch her legs. "See ya later."Ĭhristina rubbed her eyes as she sat on her stool, trying to figure out the best way to align the text and pictures and what went where. It's a deal", Christina said, turning on her heel and walking to the yearbook room. We'll fix a pizza and watch a couple of movies." "Damn! Well, come by tomorrow night at 6:00. "How late are you working?", Staci asked. That's 'No rest for the weary', you dork.", she chuckled. "No rest for the wicked, I guess.", Staci smiled. Besides, I have a lot to do on the yearbook layout, so I'll probably be here late tonight." "Isn't that the idiot who lit a fart at his last party and got second degree burns on his ass?", Christina scowled. Are you going to Peter's party Saturday night?". What are you doing this weekend?", Christina asked. He admired the way her jeans clung to her perfect ass and the way her breasts bounced with every step when she walked over to her best friend, Staci Waters. She wore a coral pink ruffled blouse skin-tight jeans with zippers where the cuffs closed an inch above her ankles white ankle socks, and black ballet flats. She was short, petite, with very light skin, shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes. He remembered her talking at length about it. The previous Saturday, Christina had just had her quinceanera, the Latin celebration held on her fifteenth birthday that marked a girl's transition from childhood into becoming an adult. If they looked good, they could do anything they wanted.įrom up on the ladder he saw fifteen-year-old Christina Alvarado lock her books away in her locker. Women were always getting over, he thought. This grated heavily at him because there was nothing he could do about it. He was a remnant of a messy divorce and because of his ex-wife, his twenty-year-old daughter wanted nothing to do with him. He had developed a healthy but concealed dislike for women. With his turbulent past, he mostly kept to himself, although he was friendly to the students and in his off time was more or less a hermit. The Janitor had also set up a kind of home in the long-forgotten steam tunnels under the school. He knew which students were dealing drugs and what kind, he knew who was having trouble at home, whose parents had a rocky marriage, and who was having sex with who.and what kind. He watched the throng of students, eager to get home and enjoy their weekend.Īfter five years of working there, he had gotten to know some of the students by their conversations, especially the girls. Up on the ladder, he was screwing in the last bulb when the bell rang, sounding the end of the school week. To the school board, he was Lorne Daniels, Technical Sergeant, US Air Force retired. He had submitted a false application and false references including fake discharge papers from the U.S. He had spent ten years in prison for sexual assault and murder. He reflected on how fortunate he was to have his job as he changed the light bulbs in one of the side hallways. 43-year-old Marty Reynolds was the janitor at Lincoln high school and had been for five years.
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