Backpack

It's not like I had wanted to look in the first place… I'm not a snoopy kind of person. I'm nothing like my mother in that sense – I don't feel the need to dig into other people's business and try to find out what they are or are not hiding. I have computer hacking skills, but I don't use them. I have such a conscience on me that I'm afraid I'll get caught doing anything bad. I tried to order a fishy pizza and get it delivered to Miss Briggs' house, for example. Well, the pizza place called back because they have caller ID (little did I know). I freaked and ran home, then locked myself in my room for the rest of the night.

The point is, I'm not a nosey person, I never have been, and doing this was not in the plan. It was never in the plan.

Why would I care about anything that has to do with Sam Puckett? Why should I care? She's gross and vicious and messy and a total locker-hog!

Maybe that's what drove me to do it.

I was at our locker, Locker #239, after school a couple of days after we'd won the locker. I was still really frustrated because Sam kept getting me into trouble with Mr. Howard. She kept doing bad things at our locker, then conveniently leaving and leaving me to take the blame. It was really starting to make me mad. I mean, they'd called my mom about my "rambunctiousness" twice already! So I was in a pretty bad mood that day.

I was kneeling down to the floor of the locker, gathering up my textbooks that Sam had scattered all over, even though I'd organized them that morning. I didn't know if she'd left to go home already or not, and I wasn't really concerned about it. I just wanted to get my stuff and leave.

That's when I saw it.

Stuffed in the corner opposite of me was Sam's red-and-black backpack. Just sitting there. I'd never seen her actually leave school without it, or come to school without it… or even go to any class without it, for that matter. Sometimes I wondered what she could possibly keep in there that was so important.

She'd sold all her textbooks, though I'm sure the teachers had forced her to replace them by now… Nevertheless, she never carried any books around. She was always bumming money off of me and Carly for food, or cooking stuff in the microwave she'd installed in the locker. There was bound to be at least some food in her bag.

And then there was that once when those detectives had come to Carly's and Sam had forced me to take her backpack before we knew what they were there for… She had seemed awfully suspicious. But what could she possibly keep in there that would get her into any kind of trouble?

Curiosity got the best of me.

Before I could stop myself, I was glancing around to make sure the hallway was empty, then reaching over and snatching Sam's backpack. It wasn't very heavy, but there was definitely something inside.

I placed it in front of me and unzipped it, slowly and carefully, because knowing Sam, she might have some sort of booby trap set, like the blue dye they use in bank bags.

When it opened without injury, I pulled the sides farther apart to get a closer look inside. It smelled of bacon and breakfast burritos… and cat pee. Gross.

Once I started rummaging through, I found a few discarded papers – old tests with big, red F's on them, and a couple slips of paper with people's phone numbers, like Wendy's and Rip-Off Rodney's and, for some reason, Gibby's. There were also a few doodles on paper, mostly of me getting eaten by various animals… a shark, a mutant rabbit, a tiger, Mr. Howard. Then I came across 2 pill bottles.

I know for a fact that Sam isn't on any medication, because she wouldn't be the way she is if she were on medication… I've suggested it to her a million times and she always just hits me for it. So there was no way these were hers. When I pulled them out and read the names on them, I found that they were her mom's. One of them was painkillers, and another was Ritalin.

I know for another fact that Sam doesn't take any medication. She says her mom always forgets to take hers, which may be why it's so easy for Sam to steal it from her… But why would she?

Stupid question on my part, actually. What else does Sam want? Money. Rip-Off Rodney's not the only one supplying all the overachievers with speed in this school, that's for sure.

Moving those aside, I found 3 small, square packages. I lifted them out of the depths of the backpack and squinted to read the labels, but soon realized what they were – condoms. I don't want to know, I'm not going to ask, and I'm not even going to start to imagine.

I dropped those quickly and moved on, forcing the thought from my head. There was another piece of paper, but this was one was folded up tinier than any of the others, and had obviously been folded, unfolded, and refolded again many times. I carefully unfolded it to find that it was the size of sketch pad paper. Sketched in pencil on the special paper was a sleeping Sam, in the setting of Spencer and Carly's couch, of course. I furrowed my eyebrows in bemusement, wondering who could've drawn this, because the style was way different than any of Sam's doodles I'd seen, and this drawing almost seemed to be out of admiration or something. In the very bottom left corner, I saw a small scribble, just barely legible: S.S.

Spencer Shay?

No way. That was way too weird. I folded the piece of paper back up and pushed yet another extremely odd and kind of disgusting thought from my head.

Next, I found a small plastic baggie. I lifted it up and held it to the light to try to identify what was inside. It looked like oregano or grass clippings or even pencil shavings… something even Sam wouldn't keep. I opened it up and stuck my nose to the top, taking a whiff. I quickly winced back, however, because the smell was too strong for even me to identify. I honestly had no idea what that was, but I quickly closed it up and wrapped it back up the way it was and put it back, not wanting to find out.

Below that was a crumpled and aged picture of Sam and Carly when they were younger, before they met me. On the back, a big heart was drawn and nothing else. Okay, normal enough. They're best friends, and that's what best friends do, right?

Underneath the picture was what looked like a receipt. But upon closer inspection, I realized it was actually a bank receipt. I read the numbers carefully – it was for a $25.00 withdrawal, leaving a total of… WOAH! $3,187.64 remaining in savings? Seriously? And the name on the account was Samantha Puckett! There was no way.

As I sat and gaped at the bank receipt, wondering what Sam could possibly be withdrawing only $25 for, let alone what she could be saving up over $3,000 for, I heard footsteps coming down the hall and quickly realized I was about to have some company.

With my adrenaline suddenly pumping, I stuffed the receipt back in with everything else and zipped the bag up, tossing it back to its corner. I then grabbed up my textbooks with shaking hands and started stuffing them into my own backpack, just as Sam came up behind me and stopped.

I didn't dare look up, afraid she'd be able to see right through me. She stood and waited until I'd put everything into my bag, my hands still shaking, and stood up to face her. She eyed me suspiciously, quirking an eyebrow.

"What're you doing?" she questioned menacingly.

"Uh, n-nothing. Just headin' home… Wh-why? Did you hear I was doing something? 'Cause I wasn't. This is just as much my locker as it is yours!" I quickly got defensive, as is my habit when trying to lie.

"Whatever. You're so weird," she scoffed, rolling her eyes and reaching over to snatch up her backpack.

I watched with unsure eyes as she tossed the bag over her shoulder and turned to leave, then let out a breath of relief. I slammed the locker shut.

That girl obviously has more secrets than I would ever want to find out. There's no way I'm ever going snooping in Sam Puckett's backpack ever again.

end.