Steamy Dorm

by Kristine Robinson

  I walked around the ground floor slowly, trying to spot another bathroom. When I thought that I did, I started to walk towards it, hoping beyond hope that nobody else was having the same idea. The closer I came to this door, the more other people seemed to have the same thoughts suddenly, and I paused. I really was not the type of girl to go into the bathroom in a group.

  Three girls walked into the room as I approached, and I waited outside. Nobody else was hanging around outside, and apart from the eyes that kept finding me, there really was no attention on me, per se. I waited the ten minutes that it took for the three girls to come out, and then, at last, I made my way inside the compact space.

  Chapter Four

  In the bathroom I looked at myself in the mirror. There were traces of me, but only traces. I really wanted to wash my face, but I thought that this might not be the best idea, and might leave me looking like a raccoon, or a weeping clown. There was nothing to it, I would just have to ride out this wave.

  “Katia,” came voice on the other side of the door. The door opened suddenly, and I was glad that I wasn’t in a compromising position. I knew who it was, though, and when Sam was suddenly inside the bathroom, drinking the contents of her glass, again I was nervous.

  Everyone seemed to drink so easily!

  Not me though. I wasn’t about to do anything that would compromise my faculties. I had to keep my head, especially now. It was too early in the year, too early in my varsity life for me to start doing stupid things. I was open to being stupid. But not yet. Not just yet.

  “Everything okay?” Sam continued, coming up close behind me. She looked at my face and placed her hand delicately under my chin. It seemed as though Sam was still admiring her handy work.

  And she had done a great job on my face. She had done a great job with my outfit too. It was all just too much too soon, and I really needed to be eased into things. There was to be no easing though, it seemed.

  “Yes, everything is fine,” I lied, knowing that she would see right through this lie. I didn’t care, not at all. My honesty, like my face, had always been the one thing I could depend on. These two things were like my compass, always able to bring me back to the basic truth, to my basic truth!

  “Then why are you hiding in the bathroom?” she asked, and I didn’t have an answer. I knew that it had nothing to do with Brett. There would be many Bretts this year, I knew. And I might even give in to one of them, maybe a few even. What was on my mind was that lingering kiss that Sam gave me before we left our dorm room. Surely there was nothing to this kiss? Surely it was just the way she was brought up, a by-product of her big city roots?

  “I’m not hiding. Just needed to pee,” I said, another lie. She looked at my cup of beer, noticed that it was still full. There was no need for her to confront me on this lie because it was just so obvious.

  “Okay,” she said, brushing up closer to me. I was suddenly flushed, unable to breathe. What was going on with me? What the hell was going on with Sam?

  She started to kiss my shoulders and I froze. This must be the alcohol. There was no way a sober Sam would be doing the things that she was doing. Or maybe there was. Maybe she was lesbian. But nothing about her even suggested this. And I was sure that nothing about me suggested that I was in any way interested in girls.

  Or was there?

  She pulled my head back hard and kissed me on my mouth for the second time that night, and this time it was anything but gentle. It was hard, aggressive, and deep. I couldn’t respond, feeling her tongue moving in and out of my mouth. Sam didn’t even seem to care that I was not responding. She was just doing what she wanted to do. All I could think of was that her mouth didn’t taste of alcohol. It just tasted, strangely, like strawberries.

  “I’m sorry,” she said when she pulled her mouth off mine.

  I just dropped my head into the sink and wished that I could disappear down the drain. Her hand was still on the front of my thigh, moving so far up my short dress that I was sure that she was about to touch me where it mattered. I don’t think that she was even aware of this, but still the hand stayed put. I couldn’t move.

  When she finally freed me, she just leaned against the wall behind me. I was looking at her in the mirror, and she wasn’t looking at me. I felt like I had made another mistake, my second with Sam in one night. But I really had no response for what just happened here. I couldn’t process a damn thing.

  I opened the faucet and watched the water swirl in the bottom of the sink, disappearing down the drain steadily. I wanted Sam to leave me alone in the room now, but she was just not going anywhere. She seemed too interested in the ceiling, now.

  “I just need a minute,” I said, and started to throw water on my face. I heard her leave, and then I checked the door this time. I locked it and sat on the floor, my head spinning with thoughts that really weren’t my own. I didn’t even try to make sense of the many things going on in my head now, just letting my head do whatever the hell it wanted.

  Another knock on the door, and my heart almost leapt out of my chest. I wondered what Sam wanted from me, more than what she had already taken, rather forcefully. I was not ready for the confrontation that I felt building up inside me. I was never a confrontational person, but I knew that this was going to have to become a big part of my university arsenal.

  I opened the door, and there were two women standing in the doorway, one of them looking like she was about to be sick. I allowed them to enter, and made my way out and back into the party, with my face still wet. I didn’t care, really just wanting to get the hell out of there. When I made it to the front door without anybody stopping me, I knew that I was safe. I ran all the way back to our dorm building.

  When Sam came back two or three hours later I was still awake. I shut my eyes tightly and just pretended to be asleep, though!

  Chapter Five

  We ignored each other the next morning. Actually, she ignored me. I woke up and get ready for my first class and Sam was in bed, looking at the wall, busy on her phone. I knew that she was busy with nothing, but I let it go. It was just easier this way.

  Walking into my first American History class, I wasn’t intimidated at all. Everyone seemed to be huddled in groups, so I just chose a block of seats near the front that everyone seemed to avoid. I knew that I would be safe here.

  I hadn’t realized, though, that I was early, and with the other early worms, we watched in absolute horror as the lecture hall started to fill up. Nobody wanted to sit near the front, however, and I started to feel more and more comfortable.

  “Is anybody sitting here,” a voice said behind me. I recognized the voice immediately, and so I didn’t turn around for about a minute.

  “No,” I said, eventually, and felt the huge lump of a man position himself right next to me.

  I looked around, and saw that there were seats on either side of me. But Brett wanted to sit next to me, it seemed, and so there was really nothing that I could do about it. I just shuffled a little bit, and hid my face in my notepad. I knew that there was not a chance that I was going to take any notes though.

  When the professor came into the room I was less intimidated. This gave me a point of focus, something to concentrate on. But my writing hand didn’t work at all, and by the end of the lecture, which was more than an introduction, it was an actual lecture, I had no notes of which to speak.

  Damn you, Brett, I thought to myself.

  “Great squiggles,” Brett said as he stood up. I closed my note book and started to gather my things. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you…” he said, and he pulled my hand and wrote his number on the back of it.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “If you need my notes, give me a call,” he said, with a snide look on his face. Then he made his way out of the auditorium without saying another word to me.

  I waited for the room to clear a little bit before I made my way out. I really hoped that Brett and I didn’t have any more classes together. I reall
y couldn’t deal with this, it was all too much for me. How much could happen to one person in a single day? Apparently a hell of a lot!

  I went through the rest of the day in a bit of a haze. What had happened the night before at the fresher party, with Brett and with Sam was really bothering me. I knew that I should just lighten up but I really couldn’t. There was just something intense about these experiences, and I knew that if I was any easier, I could have been laid, twice, on my first day here. I wasn’t that girl, though. Or at least, I was not ready to become that girl. I really needed to be eased into varsity life.

  “How was your first day?” Sam asked me when she eventually came back to our dorm room. I was busy looking at my hand, thinking about whether I should write the number that was now fading on a piece of paper.

  “It was interesting,” I said as I wrote the number down. I almost hid it from her, not sure why, though. I hated this conflicted feeling that I was having now. It seemed like I was being pulled in a million different directions all at once, and I was expected to decide which way to go. “Yours?” I asked.

  “Exhausting,” she said, and she started to get undressed. I opened my notebook and started to squiggle some more. There had to be something that I could do to distract myself from the beautiful woman undressing in front of me. Never before had I experienced this. I had spent so much time with other naked girls at school, but never had I even entertained the possibility of any of them.

  I wondered what it was that had happened to her to make her this way. Every lesbian that I had ever encountered before in my life, in the confined, safe environment that was my hometown, had experienced some or other tragedy, with me. And this resulted in a new and rather vigorous interest in women. I wondered what Sam’s story was.

  She left me alone and went to the bathroom. I took my phone and decided to call Brett, not sure why still, but knowing that I had a perfectly acceptable reason for making this call. I needed his notes, and also, a small part of me really just wanted to see him again. Brett didn’t have to know this, though.

  “Yellow,” he said, and I almost laughed. I still couldn’t place his accent.

  “Hi, Brett, it’s Katia. When you’re done with your notes, do you think I could take a look at them?” I said, trying to sound as casual as I could.

  “Sure… I’ll swing by your dorm tomorrow morning. Just text me your block and dorm number,” he said, and then he hung up.

  I really felt like I was stuck in the twilight zone. There were so many mixed signals coming at me from every direction. Or maybe I was the one giving the mixed signals. I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I just went for a walk!

  Chapter Six

  I woke up before Sam the next day. I wasn’t excited about Brett’s visit, just used to waking very early. After going for a quick run, I returned to the dorm to find Sam gone. It wasn’t deliberate on my part. I was really not trying to avoid her, anymore. It just felt right to establish my own schedule.

  After a quick shower, I started to think about breakfast. There was a decent cafeteria, but that was in the main block of the campus. Going there so early, without a lecture to attend just after, seemed to defeat the purpose.

  Just after eight there was a knock on the door.

  I checked and rechecked myself in the mirror. I wasn’t dressed nearly as snazzy as I’d seen the other girls dress the day before. In fact, my torn jeans and check-shirt made me look more like a farm girl than I looked even when I was home, on the farm. I didn’t care though. I wasn’t here to impress anyone.

  Oh who the hell was I kidding? I wanted to be accepted, now more than ever. I wanted to fit in, and I really wanted to be liked, by Brett at least.

  “You’re early,” I said, standing so that there was enough space for him to come into the room.

  “I always am,” he said, holding out his notes. He was obviously not going to come in.

  “Thanks,” I said, and held the papers close to my chest. I moved an imaginary hair from my face, and looked at him. He looked at me, briefly, and then turned to leave. What the hell was going on here, I wondered.

  I closed the door and threw myself on the bed, still clutching the notes. Nothing about university made any sort of sense to me. Thinking of my life back home, I remembered all the boys that showed interest in me. I had ignored them for the most part, thinking that there was more out there, waiting for me. But now that I was experiencing this more, I really had no idea how to navigate it.

  “No class today?” Sam asked me as soon as she noticed me on the bed, looking like she was in a terrible rush.

  “I go in later. Is this what it’s going to be like?” I asked her, needing to talk to someone.

  “What?” she asked right back, digging in her cupboard. She must have forgotten something.

  “University? There just seem to be so many things happening at once. How do you handle it all?” Sam was as good a person as any to let out the frustration that I was experiencing. She was actually the only person I knew, well enough to ask these things of anyway.

  “Relax. We’re all new to this. Some of us just come from bigger cities than you, so it appears that we have it together. We really don’t. Talk later?” she said, seeming to speak in one continuous sentence. Then she was gone.

  I guess I was panicking for absolutely nothing. We were all first year varsity students, and we all had a lot to figure out. No matter how put-together the other students were, they must also have their own sets of insecurities, I knew. I really needed to speak to my mother, but the last thing I needed was for her to think that I was not coping, so soon into my freedom.

  “Hello mom,” I said, when I had figured out what I was going to say to her.

  She was very excited to speak to me, and went on a long tangent about life back on the farm. This made me miss home even more, but instead I feigned excitement at her many tales, and then proceeded with my own short story about the last two days, minus some of the more pertinent details, of course. I had never discussed boys with my mother, and certainly not girls. And this was not the platform for this discussion, not yet. She just wouldn’t understand.

  Besides, my dad still saw him as his little girl. And, for all intents and purposes, this is exactly what I was. I intended to remain this for as long as I could, too. So no, I was not going to let them know that I was suddenly into boys. I had sort of dated the same guy since the beginning of my high school career, and this was comfortable. Actually, I let them think I was dating him, and he let his folks think we were a couple.

  We were actually best friends, which is why it was so easy for us to separate when we were both accepted to universities so far on opposite ends of the country. We were still going to be in contact, and I actually made a mental note to call Greg as soon as I was done with my mother. The familiarity of his voice would be nice.

  By the time I had finished with my calls I decided to walk around the campus, to get my bearings, and to grab something to eat. Brett’s notes would wait. If he asked me for them later, in class, I would tell him that he could come and get them from me, when he wanted them.

  I knew that this was not going to happen though, because the pieces of paper that he brought to me were actually copies of his notes, something that I noticed only when I had gone back to my room after my last class. He was in the lecture, but sat far away from me. So far that I didn’t even greet him.

  So what, I thought to myself. There was a whole campus of Bretts, and I wasn’t about to let one boy let me come undone. There was also Sam, but I figured that I would take control of this situation, finding out what her story really was.

  I was actually more than a little interested to hear what her tale would be!

  Chapter Seven

  Weeks went by, though, without us broaching the subject. Things had gotten easier between me and Sam, and I was sort of kind of over Brett. He hovered over me, but not intrusively. There was just a certain level of comfort between all of us, and I had starte
d to make a few other friends. Campus life had become rather acceptable, and so I was really okay.

  “Settled in nicely?” Brett asked me over my shoulder as I took a bite from my burger at the campus pub.

  “Wow, a little late for that…” Sam said, Lucia squinting over her own mouthful. Lucia was a stunning African American girl, more Sam’s friend than mine, but I had learned not to ask too many questions. I had actually learned not to ask any questions at all, which worked out quite nicely for me.

  “Oh shut up,” Brett said, and he lifted me out of the seat. I got up and followed him to an empty table just a little ways down.

  “Yes, I have,” I said, answering the question before he repeated it.

  “And, still playing hard to get?” he asked, Brett squinting now. He really was very handsome. But he wasn’t so handsome as to make me come completely undone. I was learning to get a handle on my hormones, thankfully.

  “I’m not playing at anything,” I smiled, thinking of my meal. I really didn’t mind eating in front of a guy, or anybody for that matter. This was one of the perks of growing up on a farm, with brothers, and farm hands, and a father like mine. I was really not too precious about basic things like eating, or even sweating.

  “So, you just don’t like me?” he asked, looking rather defeated.

  “I like you well enough, just not like that,” I say, getting up. I really just needed to get back to my food now, and the conversation we were having. Lucia, I noticed, had a way of getting Sam rather vocal, and I suspected that she might be forthcoming with her story tonight. The conversation was really going that way, and I wanted to get back to it, quickly.

  “Oh, my heart,” he said, holding his heart, motioning like a dagger was piercing straight through it. Even for a girl from the sticks like me, this was a remarkably overused cliché. I left him alone at the table, but not for long. By the time I had gotten back to our table, there were a few other students seated next to him. He was very popular, and this was one of the things that I found slightly off-putting.