Learning Curve

Tuesday January 7th

Scottie

I was up before my alarm went off at seven this morning, already pacing my dorm room in anticipation of the morning ahead. It’s the first day of second semester, winter break is officially over, and that realization only fills me with dread.

Rumors about my alcoholic mom and me have spread through campus like wildfire. Everyone and their roommate is well aware of what happened at the Delta Omega house that night, and no matter how hard the Dickson Campus Police have tried to remove all the footage of the video that Nadine posted on the internet, they haven’t been successful.

Which isn’t surprising. The internet is the seventh circle of hell, and rounding up something from every part of the fire-laden ring might as well be impossible.

Every time someone splices or edits the video or uploads from a new IP address, it gets harder to find, and if there’s anything this generation is good at, it’s burying their heads in technology.

They’ve made memes and posts and used sounds from the original video to make fun of the whole situation, but the original video is so broken down at this point, they’ll never find it all.

I shouldn’t know any of this, but the trauma bond I have with scouring social media to see how much people are still talking about it is real.

Funnily enough, Ms. Bartlett, one of the counselors at Dickson, reached out to me to see how I was doing and if I wanted to come in to talk, but I haven’t answered her emails.

I should, of course. I just…can’t.

So, for now, I have a choice. I can either attend my classes in the name of keeping my GPA for my scholarship, or I can crawl back under my comforter and let the consequences of my mother’s actions consume me.

The latter would most definitely be easier, but I really don’t like where it leaves me.

“Get your ass in the shower,” I say as I stare at my just-out-bed reflection in a mirror. My hair’s a mess, my eyes practically all dark circles, and my lips are set into a firm line. I look like shit, but it’s nothing a little concealer, mascara, and hair spray can’t fix.

If only Ulta sold products for the inside.

On a sigh, I grab my shower caddy, towel, and clothes, and slip on my flip-flops. I can do this. I’m going to do this.

Without giving myself time to overthink, I open my door and head down the hallway toward the main bathroom in the center of my floor. After some quick surveillance, I relax. For now, I’m the only girl in here.

I duck into one of the shower stalls, pull the curtain closed, and set my clothes and towel onto the little wooden bench in the corner. After I remove my clothes, I step up and over the threshold that blocks the shower area and turn the water on. It’s cold as ice, and a little squeal escapes my lungs as I fidget on my feet, waiting for it to warm up.

Thankfully, since I’m one of the first ones to shower this morning, it doesn’t take long for the temperature to reach the almost-scalding-hot that I prefer.

I shampoo my hair and rinse it out and savor the feel of the warm water against my skin, standing there for minutes on end. My muscles relax so much, my shoulders actually disconnect from my ears.

I’m so relaxed, in fact, that when I hear footsteps outside my stall just as I’m about to condition, I’m caught off guard.

“I can’t believe winter break is already over,” one girl says, making me startle. Another girl laughs, and I huddle under the water with a shiver. I’ve been in here too long, and the spray is turning colder.

“Kelsie, don’t even try to bitch to me about break being over. Your ass spent two weeks in Hawaii with your family. I spent two weeks visiting my grandma’s nursing home in Delaware.”

“Uh-oh, Luna, your salty is showing,” Kelsie replies, and her friend Luna laughs.

I don’t think I’ve met Luna or Kelsie, but it only takes a discreet glance through the hole between my shower curtain and the wall for me to recognize their faces. I don’t have any classes with them, but I’ve seen them at a few parties.

“Of course I’m salty. It snowed fourteen inches, and my parents’ couch smells like feet. They turned my bedroom into a gym as soon as I left for college.”

Kelsie laughs, consoling, “Hey! At least your mom didn’t come to campus and sleep with Randy Evans!”

My entire body freezes as Luna bursts into giggles, agreeing, “You’re right. That is something!”

Loud cackling echoes off the walls of the bathroom, and I find myself covering my body with both hands as tears flood my eyes.

“Doesn’t she live on our floor?” Kelsie asks.

“Yeah,” Luna replies, and I drown my head in the water. Conditioner runs into my eyes in stings, but I welcome the pain. It’s a relief just to have a tiny distraction from the soul-crippling throb in my chest.

“Was it just one guy?” Kelsie questions. “I heard it was three.”

I cringe. Holy hell. The truth isn’t bad enough for people that they have to make shit up?

“Ew, gross,” Luna scoffs. “If my mom did that, I don’t even know what I’d do.”

“Oh shit, Lune. Did you see what time it is? We gotta jet if we don’t want Murkowski to lose his mind that we’re late. You ready?

“Yeah.”

Hurried footsteps leave the bathroom, and the moment the door clicks shut, I step out of the shower and peer around the curtain. Once I know the coast is clear, I wrap my towel around my body, grab all my shit, and run toward my dorm as quick as I can.

My hair and body are still wet, and my tears flow unchecked.

Looks like crawling back under my comforter and letting the consequences of my mother’s actions consume me isn’t such a bad idea after all.