Manipulate

The soap on the wall smells like lavender and lemon. It reminds me of mom. It reminds me of her so badly. The shampoo and conditioner slam against the wall. The loud and unexpected sound snaps me out of my daze.

I bend over and grab the shampoo off of the floor. I shake the bottle up and down until a small glop comes out. The shampoo smells like coconut and lime. It takes me ten minutes to wash my hair and to rinse it.

I slide the shampoo and conditioner bottles through the hole in the wall to the next shower. It makes a loud, but satisfying crash.

“Hey! Who just did that?” The girl next to me demands.

I snicker. Her yelling could probably be heard nineteen showers down.

“Quit yelling! It’s fine! It was just probably because there’s not a lot of friction and all the soap on the floor!” Someone yells back.

I turn off the shower and put my towel around me. A burst of cold air hits me as I step into the girl’s locker room.

The locker room is loud with chatter. The smell of perfume makes a cloud in the air. Most of the girls are coughing and choking on it. The perfume is that strong for some of us.

I look over to my right, and see Abi coughing like crazy.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Oh, I’m fine. I just have asthma so the perfume doesn’t really help me,” Abi explains.

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay. Try to get out as fast as you can.”

“Will do.”

I walk off and open my locker. I pull out my black long sleeve shirt and leggings. The V-neck cut gives me enough air to stay cool and so I stay warm without revealing too much skin. It also hides any healed, but visible scars along my shoulders and arms.

Two other girls exit the locker room along with me. Most of the boys are sitting on their bunks yelling and talking loudly.

“Why do you girls take so long?” A boy shouts.

I don’t answer his question. None of the girls answer his question. Why do we still believe that stereotype? It’s stupid. It’s like saying all boys like cars and sports.

I almost stumble to my bunk. I glance at the bottom bunk. Nick’s there. His eye is purple and he has a bruise forming on his right cheek.

“Did you get in a fight?” I question.

“Yes,” Nick says in an annoyed and snotty tone.

This isn’t worth it. Don’t talk to him, I think as I pull myself up onto my bunk.

I lay on my bunk and the world starts to fade. I feel a weight pull my bed down. I jerk up. Abi is laying on my bed.

“Abi don’t do that! You scared the living crap out of me,” I gasp.

“Sorry. I don’t like my section of bunks. They call me a cry baby all the time,” Abi whines.

I sigh and prop myself up onto my elbows. “You need to go back to your own bunk, Abi. I’ll come with you and talk to them.”

“Thank you so much, Abhaya!” Abi squeals. She throws her arms around my neck and hugs me tightly.

“Come on then.”

Abi climbs off of the bunk and onto the floor. I glance at the clock, it’s only seven forty. Abi guides me toward her section of bunks. Everyone there is talking and yelling at each other. One person points a finger at Abi and yells, “Hi, cry baby!”

Abi tugs at my hand. “See what I mean now,” she pleads. I sigh.

“Okay, for starters how old are you guys anyway?” I question.

No one answers.

“I’ll repeat myself. How old are you guys?”

“Eleven and twelve,” one girl answers back.

“Then you should know that you need to be nice and that name calling is for children,” I state.

“But she is a cry baby,” someone retaliates.

“How do you know that?”

“Because we hear her crying or sniffling at night,” one boy shoots back.

I give him a dark look. He trembles, and shuts his mouth.

“Just be nice and treat each other with respect. That’s all I ask. If I hear any more complaints, I will tell Max or Alia,” I threaten, while raising my eyebrows.

Everyone nods and goes back to talking in their groups.

“Thank you, Abhaya,” Abi says to me.

She gives me a hug. I return it. “You’re welcome.”

The clock says seven fifty-five when I get back to my bunk.

“Where were you? How long does it take you to get ready for bed?” Theo asks.

“First of all, I was ready for bed. But then Abi came to me with a problem and I had to help her,” I explain.

“Okay. What happened though?”

“Most of the people in her section were calling her a cry baby, and Abi asked me to come and help her with it.”

Theo nods his head at the story.

“Lights out in one minute!” Theo calls out.

Everyone pulls their covers up and yell, “good night!” To each other.

“Abhaya?” Theo says softly.

“Hmm?” I mumble.

“Good night,” Theo says to me in a whisper.

“Night, Theo,” I whisper back.