Stripped

Chapter 1

I'm aggravated with myself for feeling the need to count, as I put my lips to my straw and tally my sips, ... five, six, seven eight, before looking up. Eight is a good number. I scan the room to see which of my competitors are left, as I write down my solution to the last problem. Everyone else is still hunched over their work, pencils scratching furiously or gliding their fingers over calculators and keyboards. I wonder how they are faring. Are they finding this test easy, or challenging like I did? So far, it looks like I am one of the first to complete the test. I notice that Sai is no longer in the testing room, I must have missed his exit. I stand up and take my test and computer to the proctor at the front, collect my cell phone and exit into the warm fall air.

I surrender and count my steps to comfort myself. Maybe this is why I chose to major in math. There's something about numbers that makes sense, and counting is my release when I am stressed. I don't know if I picked it up after being in dance classes, or if I've always counted.

I can remember doing things in sets of three when I was younger. Anytime I had to meet someone new, go to the doctor, or go to a party that I didn't really want to go to, it was always sets of three, but I've come to terms with other numbers now too. Odd numbers represent a good omen, most of the time, but I am also partial to four, eight, and twelve and for some reason, I dislike the number five, even though it's odd. When I get the number bug in my head, I ruminate in it, counting things over and over, chewing at the numbers, like a piece of gum. I sound neurotic, but I'm not, at least I don't think I am. I haven't counted for a long time, but since Friday, it's all I can seem to do.

I glance at my wrists, the golden tan from summer slowly fading. My watch says it's only ten in the morning, and there is barely anyone around, which makes sense for a Saturday morning. I have some time to kill before I have to go back at noon, where the winner of the math competition will be recognized. By noon, everyone else will be up, and the campus will be littered with students sitting in the sun or under a shade tree, blankets strewn about while others play frisbee. I am happy the campus is dead, because I don't want to see anyone right now, I just want to go back to my room and curl up under the comforter in the darkness of my underground dorm room and sleep. When I am asleep, I don't have to think, or count.

I've managed to distract myself up until this test, but I know I'm going to have to come to terms with what happened on Thursday night, I just don't want to yet. I feel the tenderness between my legs, two days later, and I still can't remember what actually happened. My gut rumbles with my memories, or those that I have. How could I have let myself get that drunk? Snippets of the night race through my head as I make my way back to my dorm; the rain, the bench seat, throwing up, that strange picture, and waking up eye level  to my underwear.

I swipe my keycard and turn right through the lounge. With my head down, I push past the heavy white doors that open to my building's hallway and down a stairwell to get to my room. The mustiness hits me about five steps down. It always smells dank in this hall and it is so dark, since several of the overhead fluorescent bulbs are out. I finger the white cinderblock tiles on my right, feeling the difference of the rough blocks and the smooth painted grout in between, as I make my way through the halls. I feel like Frankenstein, my steps heavy and clumsy, not at all like my normal, chipper self.

I miss my junior year dorm, Hillman, ironically, a house at the top of a hill. The bright, sunny windows overlooked the main campus and always brought me comfort. Livie and I had chosen different roommates this year, and I'd had to compromise. Now for my senior year, I am living in a cold, dark basement. I've beat myself up so many times this year for making that choice.

At least Maddi is gone for the rest of the semester on her study abroad trip. Maybe I can find a way to move out before she gets back? If I can manage that, then I won't have to deal with her snarky attitude and condescending judgements. I really thought it would be great to live together, since we've been inseparable since sophomore year. Over the summer though, we kind of had a falling out. She left me a nasty message about some guy I'd been dating at the time, telling me what a loser he was. I never returned her call, and her snark still lingered when we got back together in person this August. I thought we were besties, I should have heeded the warning of my other friends. I was overjoyed when she left for her trip after the first two weeks of school and I'm thankful we don't share the same friend group, because I don't want her around when she returns. Janae, Livie, Isla, and even Belle will definitely stick with me over Maddi. I should have stuck with Livie.