Kids.
At least two, possibly more, were messing with her by knocking on her door and then running away. It wasn’t anything new. A game children had been playing since at least the nineteenth century.
But Scarlett wasn’t in the mood for games.
Not today.
An idea formed. A plan she didn’t really have time for, but one that she knew was necessary.
She opened the door again, and this time, Scarlett stepped out of her room. With her right palm keeping the heavy door behind her open, she kept her eyes locked on the corner where the culprits had vanished, and then…
She waited.
With her other hand on her hip and an arch in her brow, Scarlett put on her best teacher’s face and waited. As expected, her plan didn’t take long to play out.
Forty, maybe fifty seconds passed before the sound of running footsteps filled the hallway once more. A handful of seconds after that, she was still standing there…still watching that corner intently…when a boy ran out from behind it.
Their gazes locked. The boy froze. And Scarlett smiled.
“Hi.”
“H-hi.”
The kid couldn’t have been more than twelve, maybe thirteen. Curly, unkempt hair. Pimples on his cheeks. And if her ears didn’t deceive her, his buddies were waiting for him just out of view.
Nice. Hang the poor kid out to dry, why don’t you?
“Listen, dude.” Scarlett stared the terrified kid down. “I’m just trying to take a shower because I have places to be. So I would really,reallyappreciate it if you and your little friends could go knock on someone else’s door.” Thinking better of it, she amended that with, “Better yet…I think you should just go back to your own room and quit knocking on other people’s doors. Because if I have to come out here again?—”
“Y-you won’t.” Light brown curls bounced and swayed as the wide-eyed kid vigorously shook his head. “I-I’m s-sorry.”
“If you’re truly sorry, you and your bashful buddies will quit with the knocking.”
“We will.” An equally enthusiastic nod. “I promise.”
“Good. Now go, before I change my mind and call the front desk.”
The young boy turned tail and sprinted out of sight. Scarlett almost felt bad for the kid. Almost.
She turned to go back into the room, thinking of what all she still had left to do to make herself presentable when her hand—her still wet hand that had been keeping her door ajar—slipped against the door’s smooth surface.
Her arm fell to her side. Scarlett stumbled forward, reaching for the knob just as…the door to her room clicked shut.
No!
Scarlett froze in place. For the next several seconds, she could do nothing but stand there and stare. Because nope. That didnotjust happen.
She did not just lock herself out of her hotel room. And she was definitelynotdripping head-to-toe while wearing nothing but a towel. Except she did, and…she most definitely was.
No, no, no, no, no!
A swift one-eighty spin had Scarlett facing the door across from hers. Wet strands slapped against her cheeks and chest as she did a frantic visual search up and down both sides of the hallway.
At first, she was terrified someone would see her. But then she remembered she’d never been shy about her body—hence the waiting out here in a towel in the first place—and that’s when therealfear forced its way through.
Ohymygod! What ifno onecomes by?
It was like a scene from some rom-com book or movie. Only in those scenarios the character would become flustered and probably be mortified when a group of snooty guests walked by. She’d blush at their whispers and snickering grins, and in a moment of despair, she’d believe all hope of rescue was lost.