Mirabella was my roommate first semester. She seemed nice, very quiet, and like she always had something deep she was thinking about. One night about a week into the semester she must have been having a bad dream. She cried out, “No, I’m good!” and then a loud moan. I sat up in bed and asked her if she was okay.

“Yeah,” she said, “just one of those stupid bathroom dreams.”

“I hate those,” I said.

She went on to tell me about it. It was the first time she’d really said much. She said the bathroom in the dream was one of those with toilets randomly all over the place, most of them without seats, and all out in the open, no privacy. She finally settled for one, and just as she was finishing, some guy—it was a coed bathroom—came up to her and asked if she might be interested in a silver butt fuck. “No, I’m good,” Mirabella told him.

“The thing is, I knew this guy, like from real life,” Mirabella said. “A couple of years ago I was staying the summer with Cassie, my best friend at the time, at a cabin her family had up in the woods. One day we’d gone looking for blackberries. Cassie’s dad told us to keep an eye out for bears, kind of in a joking way.