The steam from her shower lifted quickly, and Hailey shivered as droplets of water fell from the ends of her hair, trickling down her back.
Panic-stricken, she peeked out the stall door. The whole room was empty. No sign of students or towels or clothes or shoes oranythingshe could use to cover herself. It took at least a minute of shivering inside the stall to work up enough courage to venture out.
Covered in goose bumps, she wondered if she should just throw an arm over her boobs and make a run for her room.
She poked her head into the girls' hallway. It was empty, and her room was only a couple of steps away. Hugging one arm across her chest, she bolted across the hall and slammed against her door.
“Giselle,” she called as she jiggled the handle. “Unlock the door!”
She twisted the knob again, but it didn’t budge.
Crap.
When the door on the ground floor screeched open, Hailey pinged back to the shower room, only to find that door locked too. Feet, lots of feet were trudging into Eureka, and the laundry room door wouldn’t budge either. As the hollow chatter of at least five students entered the stairwell, Hailey felt a panic brewing and was running out of private time.
Swimming across the ceiling and wearing Hailey’s Bear Towne sweats, a wispy, Picasso-faced female poltergeist pointed and laughed.
“Oh, you little brat,” Hailey sputtered.
Dripping and shivering, she made a mad, naked dash for Fin’s door and stood pressed against it, knocking frantically. He’d have a towel and the master key that would open her room.
“Fin!” Hailey hissed against a vibrating door.
Guitar music, so loud it reverberated in her chest, answered.
She looked over her shoulder and tried beating his door with an open palm.
“Fin!” she begged. “Open the door!”
More students were coming upstairs, and they were getting closer.
She pounded on the door with her fist.
“Fin!”
The music stopped abruptly.
The latch clicked, and the door flung open just as a gaggle of students reached the third floor.
Hailey fell into Fin’s room, head-first, buck-naked, and soaking wet. Trying to cover her body the best she could with her tiny hands, she scooted out of the doorway and pressed herself against the inside wall.
“Well, hello, Hailey,” Fin announced in a smooth voice as he pushed the door shut.
“Avert your eyes!”
Stifling a laugh, he turned around. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your nakedness?”
“A poltergeist. Little brat took my towel, locked me out of my room, and then it locked me out of the shower—could I borrow a towel, please?”
He reached one off of the top of his dresser, balled it up, and flung it under his arm without looking.
“Thanks,” she said, wrapping it around herself. “May I please borrow a shirt?”
He picked up his closest shirt and threw it. It was some sort of hockey jersey, and it had his name on it.
She pulled it over her head and stuck her arms through the sleeves. The thing was huge on her, coming down to her knees like a dress. And it was itchy.
Squirming inside his shirt, she cracked his door open. “How long do you think they’ll be out there?” she asked, closing it again.
