"I didn't ask if you were fine," she retorted. "Look, I got some gauze for your cut. Do you want it or not?"
"No," I answered as I hopped on one leg, furiously trying to pull my pants back on. Unfortunately, having not dried off, the pants naturally resisted being put on and stuck to my skin. I cursed, silently, or so I believed until Carly asked what was going on in the bathroom. "Just…uh…nothing," I mumbled. If I told her I was getting dressed, who knew what kind of mental picture the girl would conjure up. I didn't want her thinking about me naked. Ok, I didn't want anybody thinking about me like that.
"You should have that cut checked out. Look, I'll come and help you. I promise it won't hurt," she began as the doorknob twisted. Then I heard her sigh, exasperated with me. "Did you lock the door?"
"Perhaps," I replied, buttoning my pants and reaching for my shoes at the same time. In my slippery hands, one of the shoes clattered to the ground, alerting the ever-listening Carly. She must've assumed that I had hurt myself. I nearly laughed out loud. Me? Hurt? Give me a break. Like those words would ever go together in a sentence…like I would ever admit to pain. Hell, I've had a laser shot through my eye, and I've survived. Tripping in a bathroom isn't even a scratch comparative to that.
"If you don't get out here, I'm going to get a key-"
"No!" I snapped, my shoes now tied and deciding what to do about a shirt. Putting my other one back on surely wouldn't be a good idea, considering the fact it was thoroughly soaked. Although I'm not a squeamish person by nature, the idea of "wearing" my blood wasn't exactly the most appealing fashion trend at the moment.
But, on the other hand, I couldn't walk out with nothing but pants and shoes on either. Like I stated earlier, I didn't want Carly thinking of me in that way. And, even though I wouldn't be completely naked, just the sight of a male chest would send most females into a frenzy. I'm sure Carly wasn't much different.
Then, stupidly, I remembered my coat. In my mad scramble to get dressed, I had forgotten about it. Dumb, dumb, dumb, I told myself and pulled it on, zipping it up as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, wearing a leather coat when you have just gotten out of a shower will make you very warm, very fast.
Just as I was reaching for my shirt in the tiny sink, the door swung open. Startled, and mostly knocked over by the opening of the door, (due to the small size of the room), I tumbled backwards, sprawling into the shower.
I managed to catch myself before falling on my ass in the puddle of water that still seeped around the bottom of the shower. Yet, with my hands slipping up and down the wall, I couldn't stay in that position very long. My leg muscles screaming as they tried to push me back up, I fell right onto my butt, water soaking into my pants. I cursed louder than necessary, and at that moment, Carly appeared in my view.
"Zack," she stated, hiding her emotions. And, even though I was close to blinding rage, I was unable to read her emotions. Perhaps she had forgiven me, or perhaps she was ready to kill me. I wasn't sure which. Yet, there was enough ice in her voice, to make me favor the latter choice as she said, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"