I finally woke up. A long time later, might I add.

The first thing I noticed when I pushed back the curtains was lots of light. Light equals morning, right? I thought. Or so it seemed.

I stepped off of my bed and walked toward a door I hadn't noticed the night before. It turned out to be the bathroom, complete with private showers and bathtubs. I took off my clothes from yesterday, tossed them on a bench, and stepped into a shower.
One of the first things I noticed was that the water already knew that I had a really hot taste: I take super hot showers. And, all the shampoos I used in America, shampoos that were only available through certain people Aunt Mari knew, were right there. All right! I had thought, lathering up some Revitalizing Hair Cleanser.

About twenty-five minutes later, the water shut off by itself--which was weird because that's how long my usual showers were. I reached past the shower curtain (figuring that so much magic had happened already, there might as well be my shell beach towel there from my bags) and groped an empty wall.

Yipee for me.

Wet and naked, I carefully stepped out of the shower. Grabbing my clothes, I ran to the door of the bathroom. Checking that no one was in the dorm, I raced in there and dragged my smallest suitcase into the bathroom with me. Once in, I pulled on a tank top and some shorts--after underwear, of course. Then, I picked up the bag again and went back into the dorm room.

I noticed that at the foot of all the beds there was this giant trunk thing. Even by mine, and I hadn't even brought one! I pushed away my suitcases, opened it, and--Voila!--all my books and junk were in there.

Then I realized that my suitcases had seemed awfully light when I pushed them away. Sure enough, they were empty. At first, I thought Peter or Ian--scratch Ian and put in James--had taken all of my clothes to tick me off. Well, it wasn't that simple.

And I noticed another thing. Was I noticing things or what? Well, what I saw was this big movable closet thing--wardrobes I think they're called. Since my other stuff was already in the trunk, I figured that my clothes could be in the wardrobe.

I opened the first wardrobe; I found dresses and pretty shirts and magazine pictures of unmistakably English movie stars. Not mine. The next one had a soccer ball--er, football--and shorts and sneakers. One that was pretty nice, but wasn't mine. Finally, I realized that the wardrobes could be arranged by the order of beds, left to right. And mine was on the right.

Which they were. Am I smart or what?

I reminded myself to remember that the cool girl would be in the second bed from the window, and opened the wardrobe all the way on the right. Magic! My clothes. And it really could be magic... I shut the door.

Bored with looking around the boring room, I left it and slammed the door behind me.

Ahhh, loud noise.