The Team

I hiss as I catch my fingers in my wet, tangled hair. I tug them free, and my scalp burns. I thought the shower would help reduce some of the frustration that's built up under my skin. It doesn't.

Then quit. I'll cover it, recalling Seth's tone grates on my nerves. I pull a face at the tiled wall, scowling as if Seth is standing right in front of me. And don't get me started on my father. My fingers catch in another tangle. I clench my teeth and rip through it, cursing the fact I had no conditioner in my locker to help with the knots. How dare he make me feel like I'm being unreasonable. He's lucky he's still allowed to come to work and participate in Seth's training.

I squeeze grapefruit and pomegranate-scented soap onto a loofah and scrub under my arms and across my chest. The delightful scent emanating from the bubbles takes the edge off, easing some of my agitation.

Knock. Knock. I pause, holding my loofah to my stomach.

"I'm showering," I call out.

"You think that will make me go