Page 51 of Absorbed

Stacey gazed at the bleachers behind Tiffany, avoiding eye contact. “I didn’t sleep well.”

Tiffany twisted her fingers together. “It looks like you’ve been crying.”

Stacey shrugged and began chewing what little remained of her right thumbnail. She tasted blood.

“We’re friends, Stace. If you need anyone to talk to, I’m here.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine.” Stacey grabbed the hose and dragged it into the girl’s locker room. She sprinkled antibacterial powder across the bathroom and changing room’s concrete floors, over the dingy honeycomb tiles in the base of the showers.

Are Tiffany and I actually friends?She squeezed the spray nozzle trigger and began hosing out the shower. She’d laughed so hard playing Uno with Tiffany and the guys on Wednesday, waiting in line at the movies.How was that only three days ago?

All that happened since the movie night flooded Stacey’s mind. Her first kiss with Jessie. Their date that wasn’t a date at all. Not knowing for sure how he felt about her. Every possible consequence that still might be.

Stacey felt water pooling around her ankles. She let go of the trigger on the nozzle, the stream of water becoming a drizzle. She could hear the drain in the center of the stalls glugging for air. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

At the door of the guard shack, Stacey leaned in and told Mark the shower drain was clogged.

Without turning around, Mark pointed at a plunger in the corner.

Stacey pushed the door open all the way. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

Mark turned in his chair. “Just like a toilet.” He demonstrated holding the plunger with his hands. “Push down as many times as you have to to get the water to go down.”

“What? Really? I don’t know how to do that.”

“You’re a smart girl,” he said, turning back to the desk. “You’ll figure it out.”

“Why the fuck does everyone expect me to figure everything out on my own? What is wrong with you people?” She threw her hands in the air and stomped over to grab the plunger.

Mark mumbled, “Maybe it’s because you refuse to ask for help.”

“I just did!” She stood in front of him, scowling. “You told me to do it myself!”

“Actually…” Mark turned to look at her. “You didn’t ask for help.” He lifted his thumb. “First, you announced the problem with the shower drain.” He lifted his index finger. “Then, you said you didn’t know what to do with a plunger.” He lifted his middle finger. “Finally, you said you don’t know how to push down on a plunger, which, frankly, I don’t believe. But, you didn’t ever actually ask for help from anyone.” He swiveled back toward the desk. “You never do.”

Stacey gawked at him, then shook her head. She threw her left hand up, then slapped her thigh. “Fine. You’re right! Will you HELP me, then?”

“I’d be glad to…” Mark turned his chair toward Stacey.

“Ugh…Thank y–”

“...if you ask nicely.” Mark stood and crossed his arms.

“Jeez..” Stacey folded her hands in front of her face and affected her voice. “PLEASE Mark, will you f-ing help me?”

“Was that so hard?”

Stacey rolled her eyes.

They walked into the bathroom together and Mark looked around at the painted cinder block walls and ecru partitions. “A lot less tagging in here than the boys’ bathroom.”

They entered the shower stalls. The water had gone down. “Of course. Now that you made me beg, I don’t need help after all.”

“Uh…you may not need help with the plunger, but,” Mark pointed at the drain, “you do have to clean that out.”

Peering more closely, Stacey noticed a clump of hair as thick as a rat’s tail trailing out from the drain screen. “THAT,” she pointed, “is NOT my problem!”

“Whose problem do you think it is? You offered to clean the bathroom this morning. I heard you.”

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