Part 5: Dirty Laundry

by Margaret Iuni

Click here to read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.

Straya

“Christmas was fine, mom, I’m just really happy to be back in the city,” I mumbled, throwing my laundry into the dorm’s washing machine. “But it was really nice to see you and dad and Hippa,” I sighed.

“It was good to see you, too, honey. When’s the next time you’re coming home?” I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face. I hadn’t even been back in the city for two weeks yet. The February air was definitely colder than that of December, but it was handy. Much more effective than coffee in the morning.

“Not until at least March,” I measured the laundry detergent carefully. I didn’t want a repeat of last semester’s foamy fiasco. Besides, after telling Tod about it, he taught me “proper usage of laundering machines” and made me swear to pay more attention. “How’s Hippa?”

“As good as could be expected,” Mom said, mock-seriously. On New Year’s Eve, Hippa decided we should have our own countdown, ball included, and we may or may not have tried to hang a Christmas ornament over the landing. Hippa had somehow flung herself onto the wrong side of the banister and hung there for a bit, unable to pull herself back up. One broken ankle and shattered ornament later, the New Year was here. Hippa was enjoying her time on crutches, though, and had invented a few games that worried Mom more than the banister incident had. I moved the phone away from my ear as what sounded like pots and pans hitting the floor crashed through the speaker. “Hon, I have to go. She’s playing Leap Frog with the colander. I love you,” she sighed.

“I love you, too, Mom.” A laugh escaped my lips as I heard the click of her hanging up.

Tod

“Wait, don’t tell me, your mom’s on your back, too,” Straya answered on the third ring, smile louder than her voice as she snuck into the hallway. “Sorry,” she said at a much more normal volume, “Rebecca’s sleeping and I’ve been instructed to make no noise.” It was my turn to smile.

“Ah, friendship. But yes, how did you know? Laura just called because Mom’s been on her case about how she’s supposed to convince me to come home more often.” Laura had just turned fifteen and I had missed her birthday. I mean, I called her, but I couldn’t go home.

“How is Laura?” Straya came over a few times over break to hang out, but towards the end I almost couldn’t tell if it was to see her or me. I’m exaggerating slightly. It was definitely for Laura.

“Fifteen,” I shrugged, unable to think of a better response.

“Ah, yes. Freshman year is such a delightful time.” Neither of us spoke for a beat, just listening to the other breathing on the other end. “So, I’ve been thinking,” her voice trembled and she cleared her throat, but didn’t finish her sentence.

“Hm?” I felt my eyebrows cinch closer together in concern. “What’s up?” The silence on the other end felt heavy.

“What’s the benefit of using fabric softener?”

Straya

You idiot, I thought, Fabric softener? There was no taking it back, though. Tod laughed and launched into an explanation. Do you want to go out sometime? One question should not be this much of a problem. Just do it.

But maybe I shouldn’t. I sat down in the hallway outside of my room, hearing the voice of the boy who was changing everything, yet not really listening to a word he was saying.