Chapter 2: The First steps

The morning air bit at Anna’s skin the moment she stepped out from the protection of the dormitory. Geese called from somewhere beyond the quad, and the wide lawns were speckled with students—already out, already alive and unconcerned—cutting across the grass or scrolling through their phones, the world not even pretending to care that a girl in a towel was about to parade past. Anna could not feel her arms or legs. She felt only the raw data of sensation: the prickling of her own goosebumps, the tickle of her loose hair as it escaped its braid and slid against her back. She walked measuredly, like a tightrope walker, unsure if her next would be her last before total disaster. She concentrated on the route: out of the dorm, across the plaza, past the statues, the tangled bike racks, and the patch of grass where the ultimate frisbee kids always gathered. Someone—probably Sarah—had charted this path for maximum embarrassment. The towel barely reached mid-thigh, and every stride threatened to make the gaping ends part wider. Anna tried to imagine herself as a model, a swimmer, or a person who didn’t care what others thought. But the truth was that she was a dork in a towel, and the wind already had its own ideas about who she was. The initial challenge was simply the physics of the situation. Walking with dignity while wearing a towel was impossible. It slipped, shimmied, gaped, and hinted. The clamps, large black ones taken from here desk, were intended to hold it together, but with each step, Anna felt the towel tug and shift, the top inching lower and the bottom edges parting like curtains. At one point, she glanced sideways at her reflection in a window and saw a flash of her bare hip, pale and exposed, before she quickly turned away. She nearly lost her composure twice. The first time was when a trio of track athletes darted past her, warm in their leggings and sweatshirts, giving her a fleeting look of confusion before moving on. The second time was when she caught her own reflection in the glass doors of the science building and realized how ridiculous she appeared. However, there was no turning back, not with Sarah and her friends perched like crows on the steps, their eyes fixed on her even from a distance.Anna’s mind throbbed with shame, yet also with an odd, persistent thrill. It was akin to stage fright, but more private and more enduring, as if the audience would never depart, as if the performance would continue indefinitely and she would always remain this exposed. She endeavored not to consider the possibility that the towel might fail completely, but as she crossed the wide, open plaza toward the main library, she felt the bottom corners flutter and part with each step. The breeze snaked up the gap and licked at her backside. She was convinced that everyone passing by could see the shape of her rear, perhaps even more, and she blushed so intensely that she could feel the heat radiate through the chill of the morning.