The Strangely Neat Locker – Short Story

A Short Story Somewhat Based on True Events, Apologies in Advance to Those Who are Tired of My Stories Being Based on Real Life – By Jaanu

Organized people are wonderful to be around. They can’t stand clutter, so being friends with them has some extra special perks that only messy friends of neat people merit. For example, I live in a perpetual state of organized disarray. The uninitiated would call this “disorganized,” but it is not (emphasis not) messy. It is only that I, and only I, can remember and locate things. I reserve this organized disarray for things that I own. I am quite neat and almost too organized in shared spaces. Anyway, this lack of visible organization disturbs more organized friends greatly. They can’t help but color code my notes, stack up textbooks in my locker, and piling up the scattered notebooks on my desk. This is wonderful when you are there to observe the new locations of all your possessions. But when well-meaning friends reorganize your space without your knowledge, havoc ensues.

It was on an ordinary Tuesday morning when I appeared in Homeroom Hallway ™ (proven to be the longest hallway in the school, only when you are this close to being late). I was speedwalking as fast as humanly possible and praying that the bell would hold back for another two seconds when, by some miracle, I managed to reach my classroom and, half a second later, sit down, panting, at my desk. The tardy bell pealed forth at precisely this moment and I celebrated my safe arrival, knowing that detention had been postponed another day. Homeroom passed in a blur of quiet activity: kids studying for quizzes, talking to neighbors and to others across the room, and surreptitiously finishing breakfast. The peaceful atmosphere helped me forget the rush I’d been in. In fact, it was almost too peaceful to leave; the lull evidently dulled my senses and I decided in a moment of weakness to go to my locker just before heading to class. Inevitably, this would lead to my making a mad, uncoordinated dash to the first period class, but I felt that a few extra minutes in the quiet productivity zone of Homeroom would be worth a stressful jog. Clearly, I wasn’t thinking straight. I jauntily walked to my locker, ready to get my books and calculator for a busy day. It took me a few tries to wrench open the lock, and when I finally pushed open the red metal door, expecting to see my usual organized disarray. Instead, I looked at an alien pile of even books, no papers sticking out, no pencils rolling, no paperclips spilled out. I felt a momentary burst of gratefulness to Sam, the Organized Friend. Sam must have organized this whole heap when I’d left my locker open for a bit yesterday afternoon. Now, the only thing I needed to get was my calculator for the All-Important Math Quiz. I looked under and above books, knocking them out of order in my haste. Where was it? Where had Sam put it? This, I thought coldly, this is why organized disarray trumps unexpected neatness every time. Palms sweating, heart pounding, I sprinted to Sam’s first period class, just in time to interrogate her on the whereabouts of the calculator. She found humor in the situation, but told me, and I was off like a shot. I arrived in math, braids disheveled and face flushed, clutching the calculator with pride, and making a mental note to tell Sam that organized disarray is always the way to go. 📚