Mackenzie won't repeat the mistakes of the past

Inside, the bathroom was much larger than Mackenzie expected. It was a wide rectangular room that she entered on the right side. It had a bay of several porcelain sinks by the exit, a row of about ten toilet stalls along the back wall, and several stalls with curtains at the far end opposite the sinks. Mackenzie correctly assumed those were showers, given the context clues, but the big, thick, floor-length curtains kept her from seeing inside. The left wall had a large mural of a tropical beach.

The sole occupant was a woman washing her hands at one of the sinks. Mackenzie was glad the bathroom wasn't packed, but she also wasn't surprised since everyone was probably still settling into their rooms.

Mackenzie was behind the woman, but she squeaked, scurried a couple stalls down the line, and promptly hid inside when she saw the giant mirror that the woman could use at any moment to see what was all over Mackenzie's outfit.

She was unsure if the lady saw, but wasn't too mortified since this probably wasn't even in the top one hundred most humiliating things to happen to her in the past month. Plus, where else would you go if you were covered in your own seasickness vomit besides the bathroom? What am I even worried about? she thought to herself.

Mackenzie peeked out of the stall door. The woman was gone. The coast was clear. And so, she left her suitcase in the stall and dashed over to the sinks.

Mackenzie spent a good couple minutes cleaning herself as best she could. Her sandals were easy enough to clean, but her shirt and pants were definitely going to stain, especially since she refused to remove them.

No way José will I be taking anything off for cleaning! thought Mackenzie. That'd be just ASKING for someone to barge in on me in my undies! ...Or for the sinks to reveal some kind of industrial vacuum functionality that absorbs my clothes! ...Or for a beam of sunlight to bounce off someone's watch and through the crack in the door and finally it spontaneously combusts all of my clothes to a crisp, leaving me totally exposed!

Mackenzie looked nervously at the door to the bathroom. She knew she was being a little hysterical and worrying about the worst possible scenario, or more accurately, the worst not-physically-possible-at-all scenario. But, knowing she was overthinking things didn't make her any less worried.

With only so much you can do with water, soap, and paper towels, Mackenzie determined that her current outfit was a lost cause and gave up.

Mackenzie grimaced when she looked at herself in the mirror and could clearly see her black bra through the now soaked white shirt. Her beige mid-calf pants looked similar, although her shirt hung low enough so you couldn't see if her underwear was showing through or not.

Thankfully, Mackenzie was still alone in the bathroom.

And at least my stomach feels better, too. Must've just been the chili dog, not actual seasickness... Now all I gotta do is change into... thought Mackenzie as she reached down next to her hip, where her suitcase had been for the past hour or so.

"CRAP!" Mackenzie shrieked.

Her heart leapt out of her chest and she darted across the room back to the stalls. She pushed the closest stall open and it was empty.

"No way..." Mackenzie said, "How does this always happen to me?"

Before Mackenzie had time to think of where her suitcase disappeared to, a group of three young women in their early twenties entered the bathroom.

Mackenzie yelped and scrambled into the stall, before shutting and locking it behind her.