Why did I even look. Why can't I just act normal for one minute. She wasn't even Sasha. Wait, why am I dragging her into this. Would it have been different if it was her standing there, not a stranger? Or just worse. My face probably still red. Did she notice? Of course she did. Great, just add "pervert" to the rumors before classes even start.
Still shaking. Why can't I just breathe. Don't think about it. Just pretend it never happened. You'll never see her again. Probably. Please let me never see her again.
Oh god, stomach now? Perfect. Starve and die of shame, all in one morning. Why does hunger always wait until everything's a mess. Did I even eat dinner? I honestly can't remember.
Go. Just leave the bathroom, get back to the room. Room's empty. Thank god she's not here. She probably went to the kitchen. Finally, some good luck.
Clothes. Drawer. Wait, was it top or bottom? Why can't I remember the only decision I made yesterday. Open the top—nope, not my stuff, idiot. Her shirts, all perfect. Shut it fast before she comes in and thinks I'm stealing her underwear. Why would I even go there. Like she'd just walk in right as I'm elbow-deep in her drawer. That'd be my luck. Imagine trying to explain that. "No, I swear, just confused—promise I'm not a creep." God, just don't touch her stuff ever again. Try the bottom. Yeah, that's my pile. Total disaster. Feels right.
What even matches today. Just put something on before someone walks in and sees you standing here in socks and nothing else. Jeans, blue sweater, whatever hides the most. Why do I even care. Who am I trying to impress? Nobody. Just don't want Sasha to think I'm weird. Or the ginger girl. God, can't believe that happened.
Left sock has a hole. Oh, cmon. Just cover it up and move. Stomach again. If anyone heard that—whatever, nobody's here.
Shoes. Forget tying them. Backpack—no, don't need it. Do I need it? Just for breakfast, right? Whatever. Glasses on, hair's a mess, too late.
Should I wait for Sasha? No. Go now, before she comes back and it's twice as awkward. If I'm fast enough, maybe I won't have to talk to anyone for the rest of the day. Or year. Maybe even my entire life. Wouldn't be so bad.
Door sticks. Why wouldn't it. Just push. Try not to look like you're running away from your own room.
Just get to the kitchen. Eat something before my body eats itself.
Sasha again. Does she ever notice when I walk in? Not even a glance up. Should I say hi? No. Just keep moving. Pretend you're not weird.
Who's that by the counter. Don't think I've seen her before. Is she staring at me? She's definitely staring. Why is she smiling like that. Did I walk in wrong? Maybe there's something on my face.
"Hi! Are you new on this floor? Or just up early? I'm Haley. Wait, you're Sophie, right? Sasha's roommate?"
She knows my name. Great. How does everyone already know my name. Just nod, Sophie. Maybe she'll let me go.
"Uh, yeah. That's me."
"Awesome! You want some toast? Or scrambled eggs? Or fruit? Or—wait, do you like smoothies? I have bananas. Wait, you're not allergic, are you?"
Too many questions. She's not even breathing. Why does she look so awake. Don't make it weird. Smile.
"I'm—um, I'm good, thanks. Just here for water. I think. Thanks though."
She's still smiling. Who smiles this much in the morning. Sasha's eating like she can't even hear us. Is that on purpose? Probably. Wish I could just tune everything out like that.
"Let me know! Seriously, I made too much. Oops. Wait, have we met before? No, I'd remember. I remember everyone. Do you want coffee?"
No coffee. Not with my stomach. Shake your head. Just pretend you belong here. Maybe she'll move on.
Sasha glances up for a second, finally. "You want a plate or just gonna hover all day?"
Right. Plate. Act normal. Try to find one without dropping it. Don't trip. Haley's still talking.
"I always lose track of which shelf is ours. I put the bread on the bottom, but then someone moved it. Do you want jam? Or butter?"
Still going. At least Sasha's watching now. Not sure if that's better. Just grab a plate. Hope it's clean.
Sasha: "Just eggs for me. Thanks."
Even Sasha's answering now. Maybe that's her way of saving me. She barely looks at me, though. Not even a smile.
My stomach again. Of course. Loud enough to echo. Did they both hear that? Probably. Should've just brought something, anything. Did I even buy food yesterday? No, I just… nothing. Only books. Classic.
Why am I like this. Of course I forgot. Sasha's probably thinking I'm hopeless. Haley's going to think I'm a mooch.
Stomach again. Kill me now. Haley's looking at me like she's found a stray cat.
"Are you sure you aren't hungry? Here, seriously, take this. I always bring too much. Please. I'd feel bad if you didn't."
She's already handing me a plate. Toast, eggs, fruit. She's not going to let me say no. Face burning. Don't blush. Doesn't work. I'm blushing.
"Thanks. I, um… I forgot to shop. I'm sorry."
Why am I apologizing. Haley's smile gets even bigger. "Don't worry! First week, nobody remembers anything. Next time, you can owe me a cookie or something. Deal?"
Agree before she demands something outrageous. Like jogging at sunrise. Or feeding me breakfast every day for the rest of my life. Try to look grateful. Don't look at Sasha. Don't drop the food.
Sasha's sipping coffee now, side-eyeing the beans. "You want instant or brewed? I bought both."
She sounds bored. Maybe she is. Or just pretending not to notice how awkward I am.
"Um… instant is fine. Thanks."
Haley's pouring orange juice into a cup for me before I can protest. "Seriously, if you need anything, just ask. I always overdo it. I'll probably end up force-feeding Niamh if she wanders in."
Who's Niamh. Is that a stray cat? If it's a cat it would be orange for sure. What if it really is a cat. Should I ask? No, that would sound insane. God, if it walks in here and it's actually a cat, I'll lose it.
Smile, Sophie. Just smile. Try to act like you belong at this table. Maybe it won't be so bad.
Damn. Can't even eat in peace. Who is it now? Should've left the phone in the room. Of course it's Mom.
"You didn't even message me to say you arrived. I hope you're not going to make a mess of things like usual. Pull yourself together, Sophie."
Great. Like I wasn't already drowning. Like she thinks I'm a screw-up who can't keep her life together. Maybe she's right. Maybe I deserve this. Everyone's watching, even if they pretend not to. One wrong step, and I'm done.
Is it really better?