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ASPEN
Amonth passes, and it’s much slower than I’d like, but I make it through without dying. I got the cast on my leg removed a few days ago, and now I feel like a new person. For the first time in six weeks, I can take a complete shower without having to wrap my leg up.
I’m so excited about it that as soon as I’m finished with classes, I head straight back to the dorm to take a shower. The door to my room is barely closed, and I’m stripping out of my clothes and rushing into the bathroom. It seems like I’ve waited for this day forever, and by forever, I mean six weeks.
I walk into the bathroom and head straight for the shower. I grab the handle and turn the water on. The pipes creak, and I step into the shower, expecting water to come raining down on me, but after a second, there’s nothing. I look up to see a small trickle of water coming from the showerhead, but that’s it.
Frustrated, I let out a growl. I turn the knob on and off, watching the showerhead to see if any water comes out, but nothing.
“Goddamnit!” I curse angrily while twisting the knob once more. “What the hell is wrong with this thing?”
It’s my luck to not be able to take a nice, hot shower fully for almost six weeks without my cast being in the way for something to go wrong with the shower as soon as the cast is off. I slap the wall in frustration and try the knobs one more time like it might fix it.
As soon as I twist the knob again, the pipes make this strange noise. “What the—” My words are cut off when a geyser spray of water comes erupting out of the shower, soaking me in an instant.
I can’t seem to get my hands to work fast enough, my fingers slip over the plastic, and I scramble to shut the water off, half drowning myself in the process.
I twist and twist and twist until the water spray becomes a drip.
My half wet, half dry hair sticks to my skin, and I blink back the water on my lashes. I could try to take a shower, but I don’t really want to stand under a spray of water that’s going to peel my skin off.
I swallow down my anger, grab a towel, and dry myself off. It’s only four in the afternoon. I could go down the hall to the maintenance room and see if the guy who works in this corridor can fix the shower. Preferably today.
The idea sticks, and I get dressed in a hurry and rush out the door. I’m sure I look like a maniac with my hair all over, and my cheeks flush from the spray of water, but I don’t care. All I want is a hot shower, which apparently isn’t going to happen unless I can get someone to fix my possessed showerhead.
I reach the maintenance room just as the maintenance guy comes out. Oh, thank god, I caught him in time.
“Hi, can you please come look at my shower? Something is wrong with it.” The words come out in a rush, and I look up at him. He’s tall, with a bulging gut and a bald head. His eyes roam over me in a way that makes my skin crawl.
“What’s your room number? I’ll add it to my list.”
“What do you mean, you’ll add it to your list? I need it done now. I can’t shower with the way it is, and I haven’t—”
He cuts me off, his voice booming and drawing the attention of other students. “I said I’ll add it to my list. Now, what’s your room number?”
I want to order him to fix it now, but I can’t. I’m a nobody, and he wouldn’t listen anyway, so why waste my breath? I tell him my room number, and walk back to my room.
I’m still hung up on taking a shower, but where else can I go? I guess I could ask Brittney, but she’s already done so much for me. I don’t want to burden her with more.
I slump down on the bed and stare at the ceiling. Of course, my thoughts drift to Quinton. They always do, no matter how hard I try to think about something else… anything else.
Why he was here yesterday? It didn’t seem like he wanted anything since he left as soon as I walked in. Maybe he was just trying to scare me, keep me on my toes, or maybe he was working out and just passed through and dropped in.
It doesn’t matter, but in a way, it does because if he’s done with me like he said, then why was he in my room?
Out of nowhere, I remember that the dorm gym has a shower. I never use it, because why would I when I have an attached bathroom to my room, but it looks like there’s a first time for everything.
I grab a backpack from the floor and toss my soap, towel, and pajamas into the bag. Then I race out of the room, a smile on my face because I know I’m finally going to get the shower I’ve been dreaming about for the last six weeks.
* * *
It’s betterthan I thought it would be, better than I could’ve ever imagined. I stand under the hot spray for an eternity, relishing in the unlimited hot water. I’m not sure why I didn’t think to come to the gym showers sooner.
I take extra time washing my hair and body, and when I’m finished, I rinse off, shut the water off, and walk back into the locker room, where I left my clothes and towel.
Only as soon as I step into the locker room, an intense sense of dread consumes me, and at that exact moment, I know why. My towel, pjs, and even my dirty clothes are missing.
I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping that when I open them that maybe I’m seeing things, but when I open my eyes again, none of my stuff is there.
