The hallway clock above the trophy case clicked softly as the black minute hand landed on the twelve.

It was 11:20 a.m.

The double doors were covered in thick green padded vinyl to muffle the noise from basketball games.

I put my left hand flat on the brass push bar and shoved the door open.

The heavy gym air hit me first, smelling of hot floor wax, steam from the cafeteria soup and three hundred damp winter jackets hanging on the wall racks.

The bleachers were pulled all the way out against the brick walls, packed six rows high with sixth graders, teachers and parent volunteers.