Viva la Vaughn’s music is loud. I can hear it even though I’ve got headphones on. I get up to close my door and step into my overflowing hamper, scattering dirty clothes on the floor. Oh yeah, I was going to do laundry tonight.

Friday and Saturday nights are the best times to wash clothes because you can usually get a washer and you don’t have to wait for a dryer. In case you’re wondering when the worst time is, that would be Sunday afternoon. Never do laundry in the dorms on a Sunday afternoon. You’ll spend waaaay too much time down there waiting for a spot. And if your clothes are hanging out in the washer for more than, like, five minutes after they’re done, someone will plop them on the center table between the washers and dryers. Meaning everyone who comes in will get a peek at your wet underwear.

I pick up the clothes, grab my detergent pods, and as I turn to go to the laundry room, my computer beeps. I haven’t heard that notification sound before. I set down the hamper and look at the screen. Someone from the KREX chat room has side-messaged me.

When I click open the private window, my breath catches in my throat.

Jon_KREX: Ivy is that you?

How did he figure that out? Was I that obvious? Oh God, he’s not thinking I’m stalking him, is he? I wipe my hands on my pajama bottoms before I type out a reply.

IOTR: Um, yeah.

Jon_KREX: Ivy On The Roof. Clever.

Obviously, not clever enough.

IOTR: Thx for the link about the zombie run.

Being an emoji addict, I have to stop myself from including a smiley-face.

Jon_KREX: NP

I’m not sure whether to head down to the laundry room now or continue the conversation. Maybe that’s all he intended to say.

IOTR: Good show tonight. Good music.

Jon_KREX: Thx

I wait for a moment, but he doesn’t type anything more. Okay then. I can take a hint.

IOTR: Talk to you later.

Jon_KREX: Going out?

Wow, that was a fast reply.

IOTR: Nope. C is gone so I’m studying for a test on Monday. And doing laundry.

I want to ask what he’s been up to. Tell him that I miss him and wish he could come over. When he doesn’t answer right away, I decide not to wait.

The extraordinarily beautiful laundry room (I’m saying that facetiously, because the cement walls are painted this really gross green color and it’s got a low, claustrophobic ceiling) is located in the basement, along with some storage rooms where the housing department keeps extra furniture. Bike storage is down here, too.

A couple of the washers and dryers are in use, but there are plenty of empty ones. Two is my lucky number, so I lift the lid of the second one from the door and dump in my whites. In the next one go my darks. A detergent pod in each and I’m good to go. I like that we don’t have to pay. Guess they include the cost of doing laundry in the housing bill each quarter.

As I exit the laundry room and head for the stairs, an out-of-place sound draws my attention. I hesitate. It’s a scuffling, scratching sound, like an animal. Rats? Or could it be something banging around in one of the dryers?

I jump onto the first stair and look into all the corners. The room at the bottom of the stairs is glaringly bright, but I don’t see anything that could’ve made that noise.

Then I hear it again. Definitely not the dryers, but it could be an animal.

I glance down the long hallway toward the basement door where people bring their bikes in and out. There are several doorways leading into various storage spaces. None of them have actual doors. One of the lights is burned out, so much of the hallway is in shadow. In fact, the brightness here makes the darkness down there seem really dark.

If it’s not an animal, is it a couple hooking up?

“If anyone’s there and you’re just messing around, tell me you’re okay and I’ll leave you alone.” The silence is deafening. Running up to the first landing, I call down. “Okay, I’m going upstairs to get the RA.”

I wasn’t really expecting to hear anything. But there’s another scuffle and then a small cry. Oh my God, is someone in trouble? I’m so pissed off at myself that I left my phone in the room. There is no way in hell I’m going down that hallway unless I know someone’s with me. I take three giant steps up to the next landing and open the door to the first floor residence hall.

“Help! I need help downstairs.” A few people stick their heads out of their rooms. “Hurry! I think someone’s hurt.” I motion for them to follow me but I don’t wait for them.

With my hand on the railing, I practically jump to the first landing again. That’s when I hear the slamming of the basement door. Three more giant steps and I’m back in the basement. Just as I round the corner, a girl stumbles out of one of the storage rooms, her shirt torn, her hair messy. I recognize her—I think she lives on the second floor—but I don’t know her name.

“Please...help me.” She looks like she’s ready to topple over.

I run to her, wrap my arm around her shoulder and usher her toward the stairs. “What happened?”

Multiple sets of footsteps echo in the stairwell, and three students, breathing hard, join us.

“I…I…someone attacked me. Back there. When I was bringing my bike in.” Then she breaks down into gasping sobs.

“What did he look like?” one of the guys says. The girl with them is dialing 9-1-1.

“Um…I…About this tall—” She holds her hand an inch or two over her head.

“Old? Young?”

“I don’t know. A…a student, I think.”

The two guys charge down the hallway and out the door.

Someone must’ve told Bryce, because when we get to the first floor, he and Holly are running toward us.

“Oh my God, Maddy!” Holly runs up to us and flings her arms around her friend, helping her onto a nearby bench.

I step away just as several police cars with flashing lights pull up outside the dorm. Hardly any time passes before a policewoman is interviewing Maddy, and I’m giving my statement. Various security officials spread out to search the campus, including at least one officer with a German Shepherd on a long leash.

By the time I get back to my room, it’s after midnight. Maddy was taken to the hospital to make sure she was okay. Holly and a few other friends went with her. Bryce and the other RAs went room to room to make sure we keep our doors locked, and Campus Security has an officer stationed in our foyer.

Even though I’m dead tired and should really go to bed, I know I’ll never be able to sleep. The events of the night keep replaying in my head in a continuous fast-forward loop. My head throbs. I can tell I’m on the verge of a massive headache. I should’ve gone to the doctor for a refill on my medication. At least I don’t have to work tomorrow.

I slump down on the bed and that’s when my hands start to shake. I held myself together earlier but can feel myself unraveling now. My teeth are chattering. I’m freezing cold. As I lie there wrapped in my quilt with my knees pulled to my chest, I hear a dinging sound. It takes me a moment to realize it’s my computer. The chat window with Jon is still open.

Jon_KREX: Ivy? Are you back?

The time stamp indicates he typed that over an hour ago. He’s probably not still at the station, but I try anyway.

IOTR: Jon? U there?

A few minutes pass and he doesn’t reply. He must’ve gone home. I grab my phone and debate whether to text him or not. I want to talk to someone, so I take my chances.

Hey, Jon, are you there?

Yes. And then, Thanks for coming to the KREX chat room tonight. That was fun.

A knot forms in my stomach. It sounds like he’s talking to one of his Parishioners.

Jon?

Yeah?

My hands are really shaking now. I’m not sure I can type.