Flushed!
2009
The blue marker moved in my fingers as I used it to write a reminder on my other hand. Math test tomorrow, it read. I smiled, pleased with what I had written.
“Look, Alex! My handwriting looks so neat here!” I placed my hand in front of her face, showing off my little accomplishment. Her eyes widened and she moved her sandwich from her lips—her mouth then opened to form a small “o” when she looked at my hand.
“What?” I frowned.
“Don’t write on your hand, Kaylan!” she scolded. “You’re going to get skin cancer!”
I paused for a second, waiting for her to start laughing, but she continued to look at me with concern. It was my turn to be scared. Almost instinctively, my hands began to rub the writing off. Yet, the writing wouldn’t budge.
“I’m gonna go wash it off!” I yelled back to Alex. My legs took off running and doors flew past my eyes; before I knew it, I was in front of a sink.
I pushed down on the handle of the sink, but it was one of those sinks where the handle had to be lifted. Funny, I thought. I don’t remember the sinks being this way. I brushed the thought aside and lifted the handle—immediately I felt the cool stream of water on my skin. I scrubbed harder and harder until there were no visible traces of ink left. My muscles relaxed and I let out a sigh of relief. I left as I heard the sound of a toilet flushing and made my way back to Alex, waving my freshly-cleaned hand. “Free of skin cancer!”
She started shaking uncontrollably and her laughter filled the air. “Kaylan,” she breathed, “I was kidding. You won’t get skin cancer from writing on yourself. Well, maybe if it was a toxic marker.” She had to take several breaths of air in between her words to continue speaking.
I crossed my arms defensively. “You could’ve told me that before I—” I felt a tap on my shoulder.
“Hey, weren’t you just in the boy’s restroom?”
I spun around to see a boy looking at me with expectant eyes. “What?” I asked.
“I just saw you in the boys’ restroom,” he repeated with a tinge of annoyance.
“No! Why would you even—” I closed my eyes, struggling to remember if I had turned left or right. Left was the direction of the girls’ restroom. I couldn’t recall, but suddenly the image of the sink with the different handle appeared in my mind. Then it all clicked. I did go into the boys’ restroom.
“No. That wasn’t me,” I lied. Beads of sweat danced on my hands and I prayed, prayed that this guy would drop the subject.
“Are you sure? I could’ve sworn it was you. I mean, I remember seeing your shoes,” he said, gesturing towards my shoes. Airwalk slip-ons from Payless. Black with pink detailing. No more than $10. Definitely recognizable, though. I shifted my feet, heat rushing to my cheeks.
“I’m sure it wasn’t me. Can you stop asking me now?”
He gave me one final look before shrugging and saying, “Yeah, whatever. I still think it’s you.”
He walked away, leaving me more afraid than I had been when I had thought I was going to get skin cancer. Tears welled up in my eyes. There was nothing I hated more than embarrassment and the mere thought of him spreading this story around made the tears rush out.
“Kaylan, it’s okay. I’m sure he was bluffing.” Alex rubbed my back sympathetically, knowing that she was to blame for this. I wasn’t going to point fingers though, considering I just had the finger pointed at me.
“W-what if h-he tells everyone?” I stammered.
“Don’t worry. He has no reason to tell everyone. People walk into the wrong restroom all the time. You’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be fine,” I told myself, but I couldn’t make myself believe it. I wished I was brave enough to laugh this whole situation off… but I wasn’t. All I could think about was whether he would tell anyone. I was already the new kid; I didn’t want to be the new kid who went into the wrong restroom.
Riiiiiiing! The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. My stomach dropped even lower. Slowly, I dragged my feet towards the classroom. I have to go.
“Kaylan, I heard you went into the boy’s restroom!” someone exclaimed.
I closed my eyes. Only 657 more days until promotion. Please let those days go by quickly.
2014
My hands were folded neatly in my lap as I waited for the next question.
“What is your most embarrassing moment?” the facilitator asked the group. I glanced around the room. Everyone shifted uncomfortably in their seats while I chuckled softly. Here goes nothing…
“It was in the fourth grade,” I started.