Right as I swallowed a handful of pills to end my life, I saw a post on a forum. [What is the worst thing you ever did to your college roommate?] The comment getting dragged the hardest read: [On the first day of freshman year, I forgot my bath towel, so I used my roommate’s. I ended up giving her my infection.] [I was scared, so I told everyone her towel was dirty and that she infected me.] [She even paid me ten thousand dollars for emotional distress.] Someone replied, asking what happened to the roommate. [I used the communal washing machines downstairs to wash my underwear, and I ended up infecting over twenty other girls in the building.] [The school thought it was her fault and expelled her. Thank God I was smart enough to make her take the fall.] The poster’s tone was dripping with smugness. [She paid me out, couldn’t afford her own medication, and the doctors say she doesn’t have long to live.] I stared at that familiar username, my fingertips turning ice cold. I kept wondering: if I hadn’t let her borrow my towel that day, would everything be different? When I opened my eyes, I was actually back on the very first day of freshman year. Chapter 1 Harper’s voice echoed from our dorm bathroom. “I didn’t bring a bath towel. Whose is this one hanging in here? Let me borrow it to dry off.” My brain exploded with a loud buzz. In my past life, Harper told me her luggage hadn’t arrived yet and asked to borrow my towel. I didn’t think much of it and agreed. Five days later, she showed up at the Residence Director’s office crying with a medical report, claiming she had only ever touched my towel. Later, girls across the entire dorm building started reporting itching and rashes. Everyone said I was patient zero. I explained until my throat was hoarse, but no one believed me. I vaulted off my bunk bed and charged straight in. Behind the shower curtain, Harper was taking a shower. Her hand was about to touch my towel. I violently snatched the towel away. A scream erupted from inside. “Avery! What the hell are you doing?! Are you crazy?!” The water shut off. Harper wrapped the shower curtain around herself. “I’m taking a shower! Why did you bust in here? Are you a pervert?!” Lily and Brooke also ran in. Brooke glared at me. “Avery, have you lost your mind? She’s still taking a shower in there!” I stood in the dry area of the bathroom. I didn’t touch the curtain, and I didn’t look inside. “Sorry about that. I just needed to do laundry, and I remembered my towel was still in here. I didn’t think.” Harper started crying from inside. “Didn’t I just tell you I was going to borrow it?” “If you minded, you could have just said so. Did you really need to storm in here?” Lily frowned. “Yeah, it’s just a towel. What’s the big deal about letting her use it?” Brooke chimed in. “Exactly. Busting in to snatch it away is ridiculous.” It’s just a towel. In my past life, they said the exact same thing. But in the end, I was the one expelled, I was the one cyberbullied, and I was the one who felt like staying alive was a luxury. Holding the towel, I walked out of the bathroom door and grabbed a pair of scissors from my desk. Lily froze. “What are you going to do?” I didn’t answer. Snip. The brand-new towel was cut open. Harper’s crying stopped for a second. With one cut after another, I shredded that towel into pieces and threw it into the trash can. Brooke screamed. “Avery, you are actually insane!” I put the scissors back in my drawer. “It’s my property. I can do whatever I want with it.” Harper poked her head out from behind the shower curtain, her voice trembling weakly. “What is that supposed to mean? Do you think I’m dirty?” I looked at her blurry silhouette and smiled. “Yes.” “I think you’re dirty.” The dorm room instantly fell silent. Lily’s face turned ugly. “How can you speak to your classmate like that?” “Even if Harper’s family doesn’t have a lot of money, you can’t just bully her.” Brooke sneered. “So dramatic. It’s just a borrowed towel. What, do you have some kind of disease?” I looked up at them. “Sorry, I’m a germaphobe. My towels, toothbrush, basin, and toiletries, nobody touches them.” “Also, taking my things without my permission isn’t called borrowing.” “It’s called stealing.” Brooke flushed bright red. “Nobody wants to steal your raggedy towel!” Harper started crying again. “Just stop, guys.” “It’s my fault. I didn’t know Avery was so particular about this.” As soon as she said that, Lily’s look toward me grew even more disgusted. Harper suddenly asked in a soft voice: “Avery, you’re reacting so aggressively… is there something wrong with your towel?” Chapter 2 The next day, I went to an off-campus supermarket and bought a massive pack of disposable bath towels. When I got back to the dorm, Lily was doing her makeup. She glanced at the bag and rolled her eyes. “So dramatic. If someone didn’t know better, they’d think our dorm was a quarantine ward.” Brooke chewed on a straw and laughed. “Leave it alone. She’s a princess. She’s not like us.” She rolled her eyes. “Acting all high and mighty. Really thinks she’s some rich heiress.” Harper was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking down as she folded clothes. Her eyes were red. Seeing me walk in, she spoke very quietly. “Don’t be like that, guys. Avery might just be a clean freak.” Pausing for a moment, she added: “I don’t mind if she thinks I’m gross. I’m used to it.” Lily’s heart immediately melted. “Harper, stop blaming yourself for everything.” Brooke also said, “Exactly. Some people just have no class. This isn’t your fault.” I put the disposable towels into my locker and locked it. Brooke seemed triggered by the sound. “Are you serious, princess? You think we’re going to steal your towels?” I ignored her. At noon, I gathered my jackets and bedsheets and went down to the communal laundry room on the first floor. I had just poured in my laundry detergent when I saw Harper walk in carrying a basin. She stood at the machine next to mine and shoved her clothes in, piece by piece. I stopped what I was doing and took a deep breath. “Harper, the sign on the wall clearly says not to wash underwear or socks in the communal machines.” My voice wasn’t loud. But the laundry room instantly fell silent for a few seconds. Harper’s hands froze. She turned to look at me, her eyes slowly filling with tears. “Avery, are you saying I don’t deserve to use the communal washing machines?” I frowned. “That’s not what I meant. I just said you can’t wash your underwear in them.” She lowered her head, her fingers gripping the hem of her shirt. “But I don’t have the money to buy a mini washer.” “And I’m worried hand-washing won’t get them clean.” “I just want my clothes to be clean.” Two girls nearby turned to look at us. Harper’s voice grew quieter, but loud enough for everyone to hear. “I know you think I’m poor and that I’m dirty.” “But just because I’m poor doesn’t mean I should be banned from using the school’s washing machines, right?” Lily happened to be walking in with her laundry basket. Hearing that last sentence, her face instantly darkened. “Avery, are you bullying Harper again?” Brooke walked in right behind her. “You’re micromanaging how she does her laundry now?” I said, “I just reminded her that underwear and socks aren’t supposed to be mixed into the communal machines.” Brooke scoffed. “Couldn’t you have just said it nicely? Did you have to yell it out in front of all these people?” Harper immediately grabbed Brooke’s arm. “Brooke, stop.” “It’s my fault. I won’t wash them here anymore.” She started pulling her wet clothes back out of the machine, tears dripping down her face. Some girls nearby started trying to mediate. “Come on, you already paid for the cycle. Just be careful next time.” “The communal machines are for everyone to use.” “If some people have a problem with it, they can just not use them.” Lily stepped directly in front of Harper to block me. “Avery, you are crossing a serious line.” I looked at them. I suddenly found the whole situation hilarious. I pressed the start button on my machine. “I said what I needed to say.” “If you want to wash them, go ahead.” Harper looked up, a fleeting glimmer of triumph flashing deep in her eyes. I pretended not to see it. From that day on, I officially became the outcast of the dorm. I showered with disposable towels. After using them, I cut them up and threw them away. I locked my toiletries in my cabinet. I aired out the bathroom every time I used the sink, and occasionally sprayed disinfectant, but only on the areas I had personally touched. Despite this, Brooke still complained in our dorm group chat: [Can a certain someone stop being so extra every single day? She makes it seem like our dorm is infested or something.] Lily replied: [She’s not a clean freak. She just thinks we’re dirty.] Harper waited a few minutes before replying: [Please don’t be mean to her guys. Maybe my presence really just makes her uncomfortable.] The chat filled with comforting replies. [Harper, stop being such a doormat.] [She’s just bullying you because you have a good temper.] [Getting stuck with a princess-syndrome roommate is the absolute worst.] I took screenshots of every single message and saved them. Starting on the fifth day, people in the Building 3 group chat started reporting feeling unwell. A girl on the second floor asked if anyone had anti-itch cream. Someone on the fourth floor said she had broken out in a red rash on her legs. Another girl mentioned severe itching down there, wondering if she was allergic to her laundry detergent. Panic began to spread in the group chat. [Could the washing machines be infected from not being sanitized?] Harper also started skipping classes frequently. Until that evening, when my Residence Director, Director Hayes, called me. “Avery, come to my office right now.” I asked, “What’s going on?” She paused for two seconds. “Harper is dealing with a severe medical issue, and she says it’s related to you.” When I arrived at the office, I could already hear crying from inside. Harper was sitting in a chair, deathly pale, clutching a medical report. When she saw me, fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “Avery, I swear I never wanted to hurt you.” “But the only thing of yours I ever touched was your bath towel.” Chapter 3 Director Hayes placed the medical report on her desk, looking extremely grim. “Avery, the implications of this are very serious.” “More than one girl in the building is reporting symptoms. The college must address this immediately.” I looked at her. “So how do you plan to address me?” Director Hayes frowned. “We’re not punishing you. We’re asking for your cooperation.” “Go to the campus clinic right now for a full screening.” “Until the results come back, you need to pack a bag and move into temporary isolation housing to prevent exposing other students.” I laughed. “So without any investigation, you’ve already decided I’m patient zero?” Director Hayes’s tone sharpened. “Avery, do not be so defensive.” “Harper’s statement was very clear. She only ever touched your bath towel.” Harper cried and shook her head. “Director Hayes, please don’t make Avery move out.” “I don’t want everyone to know she has a disease.” The office door wasn’t fully closed. Quite a few students were lingering outside in the hallway. I heard muffled whispers: “It’s her?” “I heard it spread from a bath towel.” “Her roommates said she uses disposable towels every single day. She definitely knew she was infected.” My phone buzzed. In the dorm group chat, Brooke wrote: [I’m standing right outside the office. Harper is crying so hard she can barely speak.] Lily: [Exactly. She’s always so sweet. She would never lie about something like this.] Brooke added: [Avery literally called her dirty the other day. Thinking about it now, that is terrifying.] I took a screenshot of the chat, saved it, and looked up. “I will cooperate with the medical screening.” Director Hayes’s expression softened slightly. “Good.” I continued: “But I demand that you pull the security footage and the card-swipe logs for the communal laundry room for the past ten days.” “We need to rule out cross-contamination, allergic reactions, or chemical irritation from the laundry machines.” Director Hayes’s face changed. “Avery, we are currently discussing the situation between you and Harper. Do not deflect the issue.” I stared at her. “If this truly is cross-contamination from the washing machines, and we don’t handle it immediately, what happens if more girls get infected?” Dr. Evans, the physician from the campus clinic who had been sitting quietly in the corner, looked up. She glanced at me, then at Director Hayes. “Avery brings up a valid point.” “With multiple students in the building reporting symptoms, a comprehensive public health audit is mandatory. We cannot draw conclusions based on one statement.” Harper’s crying intensified. “Avery, why are you doing this?” “I’m just scared.” “And now you want to terrify the entire school with an investigation?” I asked her: “If you’re so certain that I’m the problem, why are you opposing an investigation?” She was speechless. The whispers out in the hallway quieted down. Right at that moment, the Vice Dean, Dean Carter, pushed the door open. He scanned the room. “When it comes to student health, we absolutely must conduct a thorough investigation.” Director Hayes stood up immediately. “Dean Carter.” Dean Carter looked at us. “Effective immediately, all relevant items will be sealed as evidence.” “Facilities will pull the laundry room security footage and swipe logs.” “The campus clinic will schedule screenings for all affected students.” “Until an official conclusion is reached, no one is permitted to spread unverified information.” Harper gripped her medical report, her knuckles turning white. The perfect narrative she had written was just ripped wide open by me. At 9:00 PM that night, Dr. Evans called me. Her voice was much lower than it had been during the day. “Avery, don’t panic.” My heart sank. “What’s wrong?” “Your preliminary swab results came back.” She paused. “The sample submitted for testing showed an anomaly. It’s a presumptive positive for fungal spores.” Gripping my phone, my fingertips went instantly cold. Just as I was about to speak, our class group chat suddenly exploded. A screenshot of a medical report had been dropped into the chat. The red word Anomaly burned my eyes. Brooke sent a message: [Avery, are you still going to say it isn’t you?] Chapter 4 Within ten minutes, that report had spread through every freshman group chat. The screenshot was blurry. My name wasn’t fully redacted. Half of my student ID number was visible. But the words Presumptive Positive and Sample Anomaly were crystal clear. The Building 3 group chat was scrolling at light speed. [I KNEW IT WAS HER!] [And she acted so incredibly self-righteous about it.] [She called Harper dirty, but turns out her own lab results are flagged.] [Can we PLEASE force her to move out?! I am genuinely terrified.] Brooke tagged me directly in our dorm chat. [Avery. Apologize.] Lily added: [The report is out. Being stubborn now is pointless.] A long time passed before Harper finally sent a message: [Please stop pressuring Avery, guys. She must be really scared right now.] Then she added: [I don’t want to ruin anyone’s life.] I stared at the screen and laughed out loud. Director Hayes called me shortly after. “Avery, your situation is highly sensitive right now. Please pack your things and move to the temporary isolation dorm tonight.” I asked, “Has the result been verified?” She paused. “Dr. Evans said we still need to run a secondary culture, but the students are extremely agitated.” “So you’re forcing me to move out?” “It’s just a temporary quarantine to de-escalate the situation.” My voice turned cold. “Director Hayes, I have zero symptoms, and the physical examination showed no anomalies. Forcing me to move out now is an implicit admission that I am patient zero.” She sounded annoyed. “Do you expect the entire dorm building to sit around and wait for you?” I gripped my phone tightly. In my past life, she acted exactly like this. She didn’t ask for the truth. She only asked how to toss me to the wolves as quickly as possible to pacify the mob. I hung up, grabbed my backpack, and marched straight to the campus clinic. Dr. Evans was still on call. When she saw me, she immediately closed her office door. “I did not leak that report.” I said, “I know.” She pushed a physical copy of the results across her desk. “Avery, the physical examination of your skin found zero typical lesions.” “The anomaly only showed up on the preliminary surface swab.” “If a sample like that is contaminated during collection or transport, it will yield a false positive.” I asked immediately, “Can we investigate the sample transport chain?” Dr. Evans frowned. “We can request the security footage and the lab’s barcode scanning logs, but it requires authorization from the college.” I nodded. “I want a re-swab.” Dr. Evans said, “We can do that right now.” This time, she supervised the entire process personally. The swabbing, the sealing of the biohazard bag, the barcode scan, the placement into the transport lockbox. I took photos with timestamps at every single step. But the nightmare didn’t stop that night. An anonymous submission was posted on the university confession page. [The suspected patient zero in Building 3 failed her lab test and is still refusing to move out.] Attached was the screenshot of my flagged report. The comments section was a boiling cauldron of hate. [WTF, why is she still allowed in the building?] [Rich kids really think they can buy their way out of anything. Her lab is literally flagged.] [Harper is the real victim here. Called dirty, and then dragged down with her.] At 1:00 AM, Harper texted me. [Avery, if you had just apologized earlier, it wouldn’t have blown up like this.] I stared at the screen and replied: [How did you know my lab report was flagged?] The typing bubble appeared. A long time later, she replied: [Everyone saw it online.] Just as I was about to turn my phone off, a message popped up from Ethan, a senior I knew. [I found something weird.] [Before your preliminary swab was transported to the lab, it was scanned a second time. An anomaly scan.] [The chain-of-custody logs don’t match up.]
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