Goosebumps cover my naked body as I stand in the cramped shower space. Being on the shorter side, I have to balance on my tiptoes to reach the shower head. Even with doing that, I can barely change the positioning away from me. It takes forever for the water to heat up despite the hot, being on full blast. After several long minutes, steam finally rises off of the concrete wall. The scolding hot water ricochets back toward me, burning slightly. I fumble around, attempting to turn the cold on. After a few tries,  I finally adjusted it to the right temperature. Wanting to be cautious, I retest the temperature before turning it on me. The warmth from the water feels so good. The rough pressure massages the sore muscles in my back. It's like hundreds of tiny fingers kneading away at my spine.

My fingertips trace slowly over the scar on my abdomen, back and forth. I watch the water cascade down my stomach, rippling over the jagged edges of my past. Not wanting to get lost in my thoughts, I lather my legs with shaving cream. The razor's edge runs smoothly up and down along my skin, repeatedly until I'm satisfied. I continue performing the same process in other areas. 

Next, I grab the shampoo, squirting a giant glob into my hand. Before lathering my hair down, and firmly massaging it into my scalp. The hot, soapy water trails down my body as I rinse it. The suds and water create a unique pattern. Both of them swirl and mix before vanishing down the drain. The bottle makes a plopping noise, as I shake it. The amount of conditioner I have to use is ridiculous. If I don't, my hair is a giant tangle of knots. My mom used to complain because we went through conditioner so fast. She never understood why I had to use so much. Normally, it would turn into an argument. Ending with her accusing me of doing it on purpose, attempting to be wasteful out of spite. Trying not to think about my mom, I load my loofah down with my favorite milk and honey-scented gel. My nana bought it for me on my birthday. I love the way it feels. It's weird, but somehow, using it makes me feel closer to her, rather than hundreds of miles away.

As I am washing over my scar, visions from that night start playing in my mind. Sounds of gunshots echo all around me. I can't escape the noise. I double over in pain. It feels like my whole body is on fire. I can barely move. Looking down at my hands, there's so much blood. It's completely covering me, mine, and his mixed. The sound of other people in the shower room talking and giggling seems so far off. So distant. It's like I'm watching my life through someone else's eyes. My chest tightens with each inhale, there's so much pressure like an elephant is sitting on me. Every breath I take is painful, like a stab to the chest.

I'm back in that alley. Bullets are bouncing off of the nearby buildings. The sirens are racing by. They are going to find me any minute. I have an overwhelming sense of running. The walls are closing in on me. I'm so dizzy. I drop to my knees. The hot water streams all around me. My eyes burn from the tears that are building up. I can hardly see anything through the mixture of steam and tears. I don't even know how long I have been in here. My chest aches, only allowing me short, shallow breaths. A cloud of steam is suspended in the air surrounding me, embracing me. I'm frozen. The sound of something hard dropping nearby reminds me of a distant gunshot. It all seems so real. The warmth of the water is mimicking the warmth of our blood. I have to get up and get out of here.

Blindly, using the cool tiles of the shower wall I force myself up. My head's spinning. It's taking everything out of me to block the visions from that night out. I don't even attempt to wash the few remaining soap suds off. I want out of here. I need to. It's been over two years, when is this pain ever going to go away?

Cold air sneaks in from behind the curtain as I grab my towel. Goosebumps once again cover my naked body. I take one last disgusted glance at my stomach before wrapping a towel tightly around my body. A couple of girls walk by me giggling. They're talking about nachos, of all things. Why can't I have normal thoughts like that? Why is my mind always blaming me and forcing me to relive my past? Is it my fault? I stand there for a second, frozen, trying to collect my thoughts. My still-drenched hair spills water droplets down my back.

"Damn, this water is cold." A deep male voice comes from somewhere behind me, jerking me back into reality.

I decide against getting dressed in the shower area. My room is only a few doors down. Walking hastily towards the door, I try not to catch anyone's attention. This involves passing a group of girls standing naked in front of the large stand-up mirrors. They're comparing breast sizes and critiquing each other's bodies. Each of them points out microscopic flaws, that are naked to the bare eye. Several guys come walking around the corner in only towels covering their midsections. They stop abruptly and begin fixing their towels. I assume they are trying to check out the naked females without looking too obvious. Their eyes focus on the women's bare backs. They look creepy, standing there silently grinning behind them.

I'm so relieved when the cool air from the hallway whips around my half-naked body. I instantly relax being out of that shower room, hurrying down the hallway to my room. Lucky for me, I don't see anyone along the way. Hopefully, Skylar decided to go somewhere. I want to be alone for a little while. 

My heart drops when the door opens.

Hayden is sitting on Skylar's bed. His smile grows wider when he sees me standing there. His eyes fixated on mine. Cold water droplets continue dripping from my hair. Each drop runs down my bare back, soaking into the thick material of the towel.

"Hayden, get out so she can get dressed. Not every woman wants you to see them naked." Skylar giggles. Without waiting for him to reply, she grabs his hand, pulling him into a standing position. I watch, relieved, as she ushers him towards the door. His arm grazes against mine as he walks by. "Sorry about that. He normally never stops by, "she apologizes, closing the door and walking past me. "I don't know what his deal is. Now that I think about it, I don't even think he mentioned why he was here in the first place." she babbles on as she lies back on her bed, thankfully, turning away from me.

I dart over to my side of the room, trying my best to stay hidden in the shadows, rushing to slide my panties on beneath my towel. My yoga pants follow next. I snap my bra behind my back over the towel while grabbing my shirt. I whip out the towel, trying to be quick and do it in one smooth movement. But I'm not fast enough.

"Oh, my gosh! Bex, what happened?" Her mouth drops taking in the sight of my scar. I don't speak, my cheeks burn with embarrassment. Without looking up at her, I hurriedly pull my t-shirt on over my exposed body.

"It's nothing really," I stammer as Hayden walks back in. Luckily, getting the hint that I don't want to talk about it she changes the subject. Moving on to the subject of Hope wanting to get a new tattoo. They're thinking of getting matching ones, something small but meaningful. But not before she throws me a last-minute pity look. Something I have been trying to avoid. I have a sinking feeling this is not the last of this conversation. I'm glad I don't have to talk about it right now. I silently thank her, giving her a small grin, and nodding slightly. She seems to lose interest in my secrets as she rambles about her and Hope's plans. Hayden seems less interested in what she is saying. He continues to watch me out of the corner of his eye. I ignore him, lying back on my bed. Still not in the mood to converse, I put my air pods in. Once again, they help me block the rest of the world out. I can still feel his eyes watching me as I drift off.