Unwanted sympathy

I twisted the knob on my lock easily. 20-34-19. I’d done it for four months now, so it wasn’t exactly the hardest thing ever. I jerked my locker open, grabbed the spanish book and the algebra 2 book and crammed them into my messenger bag/bookbag.
As I was closing my locker, I noticed my 5th period teacher staring at me again. What was with him today. I automatically pulled the sleeves of my shirt down and started to walk out the door.
Oh god, I had almost forgotten, I had cross country practice today. I hurried back to my locker and grabbed the drawstring bag full of clothes in it. Ew, I so didn’t feel like running 5 or 6 miles. But its not like I could skip practice.
I started towards the door again, and could pretty much feel the teacher’s eyes burning holes into the side of my face.
I whirled to face him, seeing the look of utter sympathy smeared all over his face. “Can. I. Help. You?” I snarled, catching him completely offguard. Was he like a stalker or what?

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