Did I wash my hair yesterday? Yes, I did. Wait, no. No, I didn’t because I washed it on Monday after working up a sweat in badminton. I need to wash it today. Oh, this is a good song. The chorus is so good. If I sing quietly enough no one will be able to hear over the running water. “Three nights at the motel under streetlights in the city of palms. Call me what you want, when you want, if you want—”. Wait, someone’s laughing. Are they laughing at me? Shoot. I must sound pathetic singing to myself in the shower. Oh, nevermind. They’re screaming about a shit someone left in one of the toilets. Probably the third stall, that’s where the mystery shitter usually leaves her signature. Dammit, I forgot my loofah. I’ll just have to spread the body wash with my hands. Gross, my butt touched the wall. How many butts have touched this wall? Does enough soap hit the wall to clean it? How often does the cleaning service wash the shower walls? Oh geez, that’s too big of a glob of conditioner. It just kind of farted out onto my hand. Wait, have I used shampoo yet? No, no I haven’t. Can I put conditioner in before shampoo? I’ve never heard of anyone doing that, but what would be so bad about it? Is it like pouring the milk before the cereal where it achieves the same goal but is viewed by society as morally wrong? Or can it actually fuck up my hair? Is it worth dumping the last big glob of conditioner down the drain? Yeah. Better not risk it. How does the conditioner run out before the shampoo if the bottles are the same size? Shouldn’t they run out at the same time if I use the same amount every time? At least I have enough shampoo. I’ll just have to see if I can squeeze out another glob of conditioner. No, it’s definitely empty. Shit, my hair is going to be so frizzy. Wait, what is this song? Did my playlist run out of songs already? How long have I been in here? This song is terrible. It sounds like what my tween sister plays when she’s alone in her room pretending to give a concert to her teddy bears. Why is Spotify recommending me this? Oh no, there’s more laughing. Please don’t let them be laughing at this stupid sing. Please.

          “Who listens to this stuff in a communal bathroom?”

          “Right, like who would even want to listen to this?” 

          “I think I saw Riley walk into the showers like fifteen minutes ago, think it could be her?”

          Oh no, no, no. They know the music is coming from me, but this isn’t my song. I never listen to this. Should I yell over the stall that I don’t listen to this music? I don’t want them thinking I’m this lame. But yelling across the bathroom from a shower stall would be so awkward. Fuck, what do I do? Well, now too much time has passed for me to say anything. Let’s just get out of the shower, quickly turn this garbage song off and forget this happened. But will I be known as the girl who listens to tween pop music in the showers for the rest of the year? Will those girls tell their friends about this? Too late now, they’ve probably left the bathroom by now. I should probably get out now, my hands look like old, crusty raisons. I’ve been in here long enough. But what if I leave here and everyone is talking about me? If people think I’m the weirdo who sings along to this shit in the shower, they might think I’m the weirdo who leaves craps in the third stall. My life would be over. Everyone on this floor hates her. Why can’t she just flush? But I can’t just stay in this tiny shower stall all night. I’ve still got all that calc homework to finish. I guess I’ll just have to face whatever rumors are flying around outside this curtain.