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The thought of getting back into my boots in my bare feet caused another shiver. “The boots are going to be icy,” I said.
He gave me a considering look before he said, "I was going to pick you up, but I don’t want to drop you on the stairs," he said. "Just get to the garage. I’ll carry you over so you won’t have to put your boots back on.”
I winced as I stood, feeling guilty for being such a baby. I was the one who’d walked outside in my bare feet. I was the one from Illinois who was supposed to be used to the cold. Cold was still cold, though, no matter where you’re from. And I was freezing. “You don’t have to do that,” I said. “I can run over. Just go ahead of me and open the door.”
Kota smirked and then turned toward the stairs, but before we started to descend, his bathroom door opened. Victor stepped out wearing only his usual black slacks and a towel around his bare shoulders. His torso was trim with delicate lines around his abdomen and deep indents at his hips. His wavy hair was still wet from the shower and appeared much darker than normal, almost black and contrasted against his light skin. His fire eyes were dim; he looked tired. He noticed at us at the steps and raised a smooth brown eyebrow. "Is she showering downstairs?"
"I'm taking her over to Nathan's house," Kota said. "There's not enough hot water now."
Victor dragged his eyes from Kota to me. "She prefers baths," he said. "Your bathroom has a tub."
He was the only one that knew about my fear of showers. I shivered where I stood and not just from the cold. I didn’t want to talk about showers right now. "I can take one in the other bathroom," I said.
Victor pressed his lips together as he looked at me for a long moment. Then he nodded slightly and turned toward the closet, picking through the hanging shirts.
Since he didn’t say anything else, I assumed had kept his promise not to tell the others until I was ready. As I descended the stairs behind Kota, I hoped he understood why I hadn’t said anything to Kota this time.
Being cold wasn’t the only reason. I didn’t know where to start. Every time I hesitated, I felt the guilt of holding back. At first, it seemed such a stupid little thing to worry about when we had real worries like Mr. Hendricks and his people following us, Mr. McCoy hunting for me, and all the other problems we had been facing. Maybe back then when it had first come up, it had been the wrong time to talk about something like that.
Now, after almost a month of quiet, of all of us going about our routines, and forcing Mr. Hendricks to stay put by not drawing attention to ourselves, I could have told them but I hadn’t. At first, I didn’t want to trouble anyone with a new problem. It’s not like they could have solved it, anyway. All I had to say was that I wanted a bath; no one had questioned it.
Still, I knew it was probably best to tell them. I wanted to wait until I got a moment alone with Victor; maybe he could help me figure out how to tell one of the others.
I followed Kota to the back door, and the salty, greasy smell of bacon frying hit my nose as we passed near the kitchen, making my stomach rumble.
Kota encouraged me on. “Hurry and get a shower in,” he said. “By the time you get back, it’ll be ready.”
I got out in the garage before he had a chance to close the door behind him and descend the few stairs. The big door was open, and I could see the snow had already started to get soggy and melty, only patches remaining now that it had warmed up. There was the start of a very soggy snowman at one corner of the house, the one we had given up on when the boys finally realized they wouldn’t be able to collect enough snow before it all melted.
My clothes were sticking to me, and I sniffed as my nose started to run. I wiped at it with the sleeve of my jacket.
Kota came up behind me. “You sure you don’t want me to carry you?”
I looked over at him. “No, it’s okay.
He grinned at me and then blurted out, “Ready, set, go!” before he took off in a jog.
Finding a spurt of energy, I raced behind him, catching up only when we got to the road. Once he realized I was about to leap ahead, his run turned into a faster sprint, aiming right for Nathan’s front door.
I was breathing in cold air and had to go around the wet grass so I wouldn’t slip on it in my bare feet.
He was able to get the key in the door right before I crashed into him, breathing heavily. The short run wouldn’t normally have winded me so badly, except I was already exhausted from playing earlier.
I leaned on him, tired and needing support.
Kota eased me back a bit. “Hang on,” he said with a chuckle. “I can’t open the door and hold you at the same time.”
I pulled back, waiting. Kota opened the door and reached back around my waist to pull me against him, picking me up to carry me into the hallway.
I was met with a wave of heated air—Nathan’s house was warmer than Kota’s—and I breathed in deeply, catching the leather and wood scents of the house.
Kota locked the door behind us and urged me on. I shuffled forward, and then stopped and listened when I heard an unfamiliar sound.
Someone was in the bathroom in Nathan’s dad’s room. I was usually the only one who used it since everyone else liked Nathan’s new shower.
Kota turned his head toward the sound. “Looks like someone beat you to it,” he said, before turning me toward the hallway bathroom. “You’ll have to settle for a warm shower instead of a bath.”
A memory of being inside the shower at Victor’s house sent waves of nausea to my empty stomach. I almost whimpered but coughed to cover it. “I could wait.”
“You’re freezing,” Kota said with a chuckle, though his eyes were concerned. “Your lips are turning blue. You need to get warm.”
As I stood still in the kitchen, hesitating, I touched my lips. The sprint here and fear were warding off the cold, but that wasn’t the point. I pressed my lips together, secretly hoping whoever was in that bathroom would finish quickly. There wasn’t an argument I could make that would make sense.
I could wash in the sink, but wouldn’t he notice if I never turned the shower on?
Before I could say anything, Kota moved ahead of me to the hallway bathroom. He opened the door, turning on the light, looking at the fog on the mirror. “Someone’s been in here already,” he said. “Hopefully, there’s some hot water left.”
I stood in the doorway, holding myself together as Kota got a towel from the linen closet. “Go find some clothes so you can change,” he said.
I escaped to the bedroom, finding some breathing space as I searched in Nathan’s closet. Not a big deal. So I’d go into the bathroom, wait until Kota was distracted and wash up in the sink. I pressed a hand to my chest, over my heart beating rapidly against my ribs. I searched for clothes that would be appropriate to wear today since it was cold. I found
a pair of black cotton slacks and a large sweater that would fall over my hips and grabbed underwear and a bra.
I dropped all of the clothes at the sound of the shower turning on in the bathroom.
“Sang!” Kota called out to me. “Hurry up. I’m getting the water ready.”
I gasped in panic. I bent over, picking up the clothes with shaking hands and hugging them to my body so I wouldn’t drop them again.
But I couldn’t stand up. I remained frozen in fear, knees bent, head down, eyes closed. The patter of water spray hitting the shower tiles echoing in my head was all I could hear.
Telling myself to calm down, I tried to talk myself into moving. I could go into the bathroom. I had gone in before with Nathan when he thought he might be hurt. I didn’t have to actually go into the shower stall. The water didn’t have to touch me.
“Sang?” Kota called, his voice louder.
I forced myself to stand, to suck in some air and draw some courage. Don’t look at the shower. Just walk in and face the sink.
I turned, carrying the clothes close to my chest.
I passed Kota in the hall, although I didn’t say anything.
“It’s ready,” he said quietly. “You have everything?”
I nodded quickly, and before I could reconsider, I stepped into the bathroom and shut the door.
The shower was much louder now. I stood with my back pressed to the door, staring at the floor, and the clothes in my arms. The cold tile chilled my already cold feet. Steam drifted to me from the running shower, and I breathed in the warmth.
I was still standing. That’s progress, right?
I put the clothes down on the counter and I started to strip out of the soggy things.
In order to not pay attention to the shower, I spent a lot of mental energy focusing on each task. Remove pants. Remove shirt. Strip off bra.
Once I was naked, I considered how to clean up. I sucked in a breath, found a washcloth in the bathroom closet and kicked the wet clothes away from the counter.
