Locker Senior Quotes

I don’t know. Word around the girls’ locker room is that all of you are so hard up, you were cruising the senior center, trying to find a prom date.” – Nick

The sentence should be: “I was pleasantly surprised when the first day of senior year did not make me want to freak out and hide in my own locker pretending to be dead.

In that moment, I saw myself as he saw me, I understood the shape I took in his life: I was, paradoxically, simultaneously too much and not enough. And all my life since then I had tried to rectify that. I had silently taken instructions on how to be better from everywhere I could glean them: when I was freshman and my locker was next to where a group of senior guys would laugh and murmur things about girls walking by (too much makeup; too small an ass; not enough makeup; too loud; kind of a bitch because she'd turned one of them down).

trompe l’oeil row of lockers marked the hallway down to the Social Room, a lounge designated for the seniors, where there was a microwave for making popcorn during free periods, and a Coke machine that cost only fifty cents instead of seventy-five like the ones in the cafeteria, and a chunky black cube of a jukebox left over from the seventies and now loaded with Sir Mix-a-Lot and Smashing Pumpkins and the Spice Girls.

One time, at the final hockey game of his senior year, against rival Beverly at the hockey rink in Lynn, the score was tied at two after regulation. Jack had scored both goals for Salem. The game went into overtime, but shortly thereafter, Jack’s team lost. It was the team’s seventh loss in a row. Jack was pissed. He threw his hockey stick in anger, then skated to get the stick and marched off to the locker room. Next thing he knew, his mother was in the locker room, too. She bounded right up to him, oblivious to the fact that the guys around her were in various states of undress. She grabbed him by the jersey in front of everyone. “You punk,” she yelled at him. “If you don’t know how to lose, you’ll never know how to win. If you don’t know this, you don’t belong anywhere.” He paused for a moment, recalling the memory. “She was a powerhouse,” he said. “I loved her beyond comprehension.

You’re not that big!” she exclaims, exasperated. I pause, mid-thrust, staring at her with horror. I know I am. I have statistics to prove it. We even used a ruler in the locker room back when I was a junior in high school. What kind of bullshit is this? Knight Senior doesn’t need this negativity from the love of its life.

Then I Curt - a mirage in the distance. He's leaning against my locker surrounded by a small group of senior Goth kids. They're gathered around him in the same manner people gather around a gruesome car accident, gaping unbashedly, black figures profiled against red lockers, staring in a daze at what they could become(Going 29-30).

Then I see Curt - a mirage in the distance. He's leaning against my locker surrounded by a small group of senior Goth kids. They're gathered around him in the same manner people gather around a gruesome car accident, gaping unbashedly, black figures profiled against red lockers, staring in a daze at what they could become(Going 29-30)