A Long Pit Stop

Cheerleading was my safe haven, the one place where I knew I had friends I could trust to the ends of the earth. Or at least to catch me when I was flying through the air, which was a little more likely than reaching the ends of the earth, anyway. But at school I had no such safety net. And things were getting worse.
I still have no idea how the Anti-Miley Club got a janitor’s key to the school bathroom, but one day I was on my way to science class and they shoved me in and locked it. I was trapped. I banged on the door until my fists hurt. Nobody came. I tried to open the window, but I was stuck. It dawned on me that everyone was already in class. Nobody would come to use the bathroom for at least forty minutes. I sat down on the floor and waited. I spent what felt like an hour in there, waiting for someone to rescue me, wondering how my life had gotten so messed up.
I looked at the line of stalls, the row of mirrors, the unyielding windows and thought about my two fish, swimming around and around in their bowl. How had I gotten here? Had I asked for it? Did I deserve it? Would it ever end? I knew the capitals of all fifty states. I could do a back handspring on the sidewalk. But I had no clue as to why this was happening. I was friendless, lonely, and miserable. The only bright spot was that if I had to use the bathroom, at least I was in the right place!