At the end of the hall, not only was there a drinking fountain, but it was working. Relieved, I leaned over and started chugging like I’d been trapped in the desert for a week. The crisp water was just what I needed. I felt it making its way through my body, cooling me off.

I stood up and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, feeling refreshed, glad I’d come up here, wondering what temperature they kept the water at because I was a lot cooler than I’d been all day. A lot cooler than I’d been just a minute or two ago.

I was cold, actually.

The fairies clawed up my spine.

I flipped around, expecting . . . who knows what. Nothing—no one—was there.

But it felt like someone was.

I froze for a few seconds, waiting. Hesitating.

I took off running toward the stairwell.

Tears sprung into my eyes as I ran, the sound of flip-flops echoing off the walls, floor, and ceiling. I was convinced that someone was behind me, chasing me, reaching out to grab my wet hair and yank me backward. I felt them.

“No, please,” I whispered as I ran. “Go away. You’re scaring me.”

At the doorway to the stairwell, I didn’t stop to look back. I kept going, slipping on a step at one point and nearly falling down the stairs, not wanting to see what, or who, was there.

Panting hard, I made it to the locker room. There wasn’t a line anymore, but thankfully, it wasn’t empty either; two of the three showers were in use, and someone was in one of the toilet stalls. My heart was still pounding and shivers raced through me as I punched in the locker code; I was glad to not be alone.

Each cubicle had a small dressing area in front of a glass shower stall. I hung my beach bag on the hook in the dressing area and decided to take a nice, long shower to try to calm myself down before seeing anyone else.

What had just happened?

Trying not to think about it so I wouldn’t scare myself again, I got undressed and climbed in. After adjusting the heat, I washed and conditioned my hair, then scrubbed the chorine from my skin. The products had a lavender smell that reminded me of my mom.

You mean the mom who only cares about your sister? the voice in my head ridiculed me. The mom who barely notices you or your problems?

I turned the water hotter and let it run down my back until it got warm, then made it hotter again, angry, remembering.