P.E. was stressful for Caitlin. First, the locker room was a place of horror. She hated dressing out, the conversations, the salty funk of the air, and the clang of lockers closing. Most of all, she hated walking to P.E. The door to the gym opened right next to the boy’s locker room. She was careful to wear her long hair down even though it gets in her eyes when she runs—it is her shield to avoid the boys’ glares.    

The problem was that each time she walked out the door there were two boys who looked older than they were who would look at all the girls up and down. Standing there, leaning against the wall with their arms folded across their chests, they made comments like “looking good, ladies.” “Ladies” could be such a creepy word when said a certain way. The boys would make it obvious that they were checking out the backsides of the girls as they walked by. They brushed a few of the girls’ arms. Caitlin pulled her arms close and walked with her eyes down. She wished she had a cloak of invisibility just for P.E. “Man, she’s so flat,” they commented as Caitlin walked by. Caitlin’s head slumped.   

“Now that’s what I’m talking about--hotties,” Caitlin overheard as the last girls passed through the door. The teacher, Mr. Feldman would always be looking at his clipboard or would be talking to Ben about basketball or something, so he didn’t notice the commentary about the girls and who was hot or not.

Caitlin felt icky even hearing what the boys were saying—the way they rated the girls’ features. It made her feel like they were holding up mirrors and magnifying glasses wherever she moved. If she returned any glance or word, it was an invitation for more attention. She hid behind her hair and walked to the field. 

Kickball was on the menu for today. Mr. Feldman divided up the class into teams—she was on a team with Brian—one of the leering “ladies” men. Waiting behind the fence in the dugout she tried to keep her distance from him—she let others get in front of her. She imagined a force field that would allow her just to kick the kickball without feeling his stare or hearing his comments.