The boy’s locker room was empty, but it still had the musty smell of unwashed gym shorts and pit stains, not even moderately camouflaged by the haze of deodorant that hung in the air. Robyn wrinkled her nose and followed the unsavory smells as they wafted through the room, the worst of them settling in front of Mike’s locker. She held her palm over his greasy, mottled combination lock and concentrated on its spiritual essence.
“What do you want?” the lock said lackadaisically.
“Might I please enter your domain?” Robyn said
“What’s that now?”
“Um, I need you to unlock.”
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” The lock slowly began to spin unaided. Right to nine, left to six, back up to zero and around to seven. The lock gave a high, pinging pop and sprung open.