CHAPTER FOURTEEN: LAUNDRY ROOM CONVERSATIONS
I stare at the clear circular door of the dorm building washing machine and watch as the clothing spins around and around. And . . . flop. And . . . flop. And . . . flop. The clothing flops down from the top more than it loops around.
"I could have just done this when I get home," Savannah grumbles.
"No." Stephanie clicks her gum. "I'm not letting your sweaty clothes stink up the back of my car."
Savannah folds her arms as she leans against the dryer. "When was the last time you washed you're ratty ass hair?"
Stephanie grasps the bun on top of her head before she slaps Savannah's arm. Then, they proceed to continue slapping and yelling at each other in Spanish, which always leads to Savannah making fun of Stephanie's Spanglish. Something about growing up with only one Puerto Rican parent opposed to two. All the while Megan and I trade shrugs and smiles like we always do when this happens.
Megan stretches her arm out and waves a sock between them. "Are y'all done yet?"
"Y'all!" we all shout back at her.
Her face instantly clicks back into neutral while we all laugh. Her eyes are her only sign of fury as she blinks back at us before she casts her gaze back down on her phone. It's only when the washing machine beeps that Savannah pats Megan's legs. Megan twists her body slightly so Savannah can open the dryer door below her butt.
My butt happens to be on the gross basement floor, but I'm wearing sweatpants and brought a towel to sit on. The towel is more useful under my butt than the notebook I have perched between my legs and stomach. I brought it to make myself feel better about hanging out down here instead of studying.
"How the hell does your butt fit into this?" Stephanie holds a pair of Savannah's shorts up to her legs. "They literally fit my arm." She barely shoves her arm through one of the leg slots before Savannah rips them back and tosses them in her basket. "You don't know what it's like to have boobs," Stephanie continues as brings her hands up to cup her chest before she glances behind her. "Or an ass."
Savannah smacks Stephanie's butt with a t-shirt, and that makes her gasp and hop up onto the other dryer in the corner.
I lean my head back against the wall behind me, but still can't bring myself to read the words in front of me. The dryer continues to churn and rumble under Megan, but the only other sound in the room is when Stephanie blows a bubble with her gum and it pops.
"What is that?" Stephanie whispers before she hops off the dryer. "What is that?" she asks a little louder now as she snatches something dark out of Savannah's basket.
Savannah turns around from the clothing pile she's formed on the washing machine next to her. "That's not mine . . . I swear," she hisses after Stephanie whispers something in her ear. "It's not."
I look up from where I zoned out on the floor to find a dark cheetah print bra lined with thick black lace dangling off Stephanie's fingers. We trade wide eyes before all our heads turn to the petite brunette still perched on top of the dryer.
"What?" Megan glances up from her phone.
"Care to explain?" Savannah points her finger just as Stephanie raises the bra higher up in the air.
I've never seen Megan move so fast nor have her almond shaped eyes widened so much.
"Megan!" Savannah yells.
"What?" she shrugs as she stuffs the bra up her oversized t-shirt.
"First you wear leggings and now . . ." Stephanie trails off.
Savannah reaches up to feel Megan's forehead, but she quickly swats her hand away.
"You know it's been awhile since I've been with a guy." Stephanie practically sighs as she hops back up on the dryer.
Savannah snorts. "What like two days?"
"No!" Stephanie huffs and slaps her with the same shirt they've been trading back and forth. "Like two weeks." Her shoulders jump up to her ears in a wince, but Savannah just grunts again as she continues folding.
"Anyone's better than Patrick Gemski."
"Hey!" Stephanie throws the shirt, and it lands on Savannah's head. "Not like you're first was any better."
Savannah rips the shirt down and smirks. "Which one?"
Stephanie gasps before her voice drops back down to a whisper. "You did not."
Savannah's ponytail jiggles as she nods. "It was so liberating. It was like losing it all over again."
Their voices drop in and out of whispers. I take that as my cue to try and read my notes again, but I still catch on to Savannah saying something about guys giving her just the right look, or girls pulling her close in the right way. For some reason, Trent's smile pops into my head. His lopsided one and his full one. The small one's when the wind outside is blowing his hair around, and the big one's when he's sideways and trying to hold in his laughter during class.
"Megs waiting for the ring," Savannah whispers and swirls her left ring finger in the air.
"You don't have to whisper." Megan doesn't even look up from her phone. "I'm not trying to hide it.
Savannah snatches the bra right out from under Megan's shirt. "Are you sure?" She holds it against her own boobs. "Tell that to the line of guys that follow you around like puppy dogs."
"They do"âMegan leans over and snatches her bra back with a huffâ"not!"
"What about you?" Stephanie sling shots one of Savannah's headbands into my lap.
I loop the black cotton material around my fingers and shrug. "I'm waiting until I feel comfortable."
"That's usually all it takes." Savannah puts her finger inside the side of her mouth and lets it go with a pop, and I roll my eyes at all the giggles that follow. "You know what?" Savannah whirls around and wiggles her eyebrows at me. "You should just let Meg give you her love spell."
"Curse," Megan cuts in. "It's a love curse. You don't just want them on their knees, you want to grab them by the balls."
That makes us all cackle like witches, but Savannah leans over for the second time to feel Megan's forehead with the back of her hand as if making sure those words actually came out of her mouth.
****
"This final is going to be brutal. I can feel it."
"I know." I'm smiling, but it's not because I don't agree with Trent. It's because I can't help it.
The sides of my notebook are filled with smiley faces, some regular and some with their tongues sticking out, and the same goes for the review sheet Professor Collins passed out. Trent just kept leaning over every few minutes and scribbling one with his pen. Each time he drew one on my page, he seemed to draw one on my face.
"My man!" someone shouts and makes Trent whirl around.
I don't know who he sees, but I do know that he instantly takes one big step away from me.
"Oh, uh, sorry," Trent stumbles over his words, but his feet don't stumble as he continues to step back. He doesn't wait for me to reciprocate the distance like he usually does, but rather continues to just create it.
Unlike the other day when I happened to see him as I was walking back to my dorm. He smiled when we locked eyes while I sent him a quick wave and kept walking.
"Hey, wait up!"
I only slowed my pace, but I could still hear his footsteps behind me. Both some scraping against the cement and then some leaf crunching as he caught up to me on the grass.
"Is everything okay?" his voice lowered along with his head, but I kept my gaze locked on the brown leather boots I finally decided to dig out of my trunk.
"Yeah, everything's fine." I waved my hand. "I'm just tired."
I started walking again, but I only got a couple more steps before Trent stepped in front of me again.
His fingers grazed my forearm as he stepped closer. "Are you sure you're okay?"
I was a little annoyed because Stephanie, Savannah, Megan, and even my lab professor, had already asked me the same question. I wanted to just take a sharpie and write I'm tired, I'm stressed, and I have my period across my forehead.
"Don't you have class or something?" I went to take a step back, but he just shook his head.
A ghost of a smile traced his lips as his fingertips grazed the back of my hand. "Come' on." He tipped his head back.
That's how I ended up in the passenger seat of Trent's car with the windows rolled down and the crisp, cold air whipping my hair around. The road beneath us was dark black with red, orange, and yellow leaves lining the sides. I leaned my head out the window and yelled my worries away. Trent followed suit, and soon we were laughing. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt, and I forgot how to breathe. He laughed so hard that he couldn't stop smiling and had to take one hand off the wheel to rub at his cheeks.
The sky above us was still overcast and white, you could draw on it, but I was convinced it was blue. When I stepped out of the passenger seat of Trent's car everything felt all colorful and airy. The dark tree bark, the wet bricks, and even the cement beneath our feet. Trent must have felt it too because as he caught up to me at the hood of his car, he swept up his arm and grabbed my hand. Our steps were lazy and slow, our smiles lopsided, and our hands swinging back and forth between us.
By the time we reached my building, I took a step towards the door but couldn't bring myself to let go of his fingers. We stared back at each other for a beat before Trent flicked his head to the right.
"Come' on."
He tugged me along, slowly at first, before our steps quickened like little kids sneaky past their parents' room at night. Both of us giggling and breathless as Trent lead us to the side of the building and backed me up against it. He took steps closer and closer and closer. He brushed away the piece of hair that fell into my face before sweeping up my other hand.
He brought our hands up and slowly threaded his fingers between mine. "Thank you."
My face scrunched up. "For what?"
He just shrugged. "For existing."
My lips tipped up. "No, thank you." I leaned up on my tiptoes and slid my arms over the thick cotton of his navy blue hoodie.
His hands slid down my back and wrapped around my waist. "For what?" He was only breaths away now as I leaned my head on his chest, inhaling the crisp airy scent of his laundry detergent.
"For being you." I sighed.
I could sense his smile before he mimicked my sigh and closed the remaining distance between us, hugging me back, warming me head to toe like the afternoon sun. He leaned his head on my shoulder, resting his nose on the skin where my shoulder meets my collar bone.
"Mm," he hummed against my skin and hugged me tighter. "Vanilla."
I smiled just as my eyelids fluttered closed. I don't know how long we stood there just breathing each other in. It could have been hours, maybe minutes, but probably only for a few seconds, and yet I felt myself planting roots right then and there, piercing right through the cement beneath our feet, branches breaking through the bricks behind my head, wanting nothing more than an eternity in the cloud of his arms.
Today the sky is bright blue underneath cotton ball clouds, completely cartoon and saturated, and yet Trent continues to take big steps away from me, further and further until I feel just as cold and bare as the dark naked bark of the trees shattering the sky. He bumps into people as he goes.
"Have a good break!" His backpack jiggles as he whips around and falls in step with the crowd, while I'm left pushed off the cement pathway and stumbling on to the grass.
The wind whips my hair around like a runaway train rolling by as you stand on the platform to board. You're all alone as the train blares down on its horn and rattles and huffs across the tracks, moving on without you. The large yellow bar a few steps ahead just before you usually step into the doors reads "CAUTION. There's a gap."
He's nowhere in sight, lost among strangers, and I can't help but think yeah, there is.