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Ma's 24-hour Laundry Mat

1224 Maple Street

Wednesday 7:45pm

I angrily threw my whites into the washer and topped it off with some liquid detergent. Anyone could tell I was frustrated beyond belief. Aaron had come to my rescue yet again. I hate letting him play the hero, I hate how I have to lean on him when the going feels like it’s getting tough. I grabbed my mp3 player and shuffled through songs, occasionally checking the timer on the washer. He was late. Subconsciously I thought I’d some how done something, and majority of me was thinking I had. This was how I got when things were actually falling into place; I tried to make them fall apart before they could. Kyle had been the biggest mistake. I couldn’t knock the feet out from under it all, and it wouldn’t crumble. It wouldn’t crumble because there was nothing holding it up, nothing at all.

I groaned. I moaned. I whined as I listened to my pathetic music. Nothing was soothing my mind and all I could think about what how to sabotage my non-existent relationship with laundry guy before it could begin, I was losing at my own pathetic game. I wanted this, didn’t I? I wanted a relationship, but somehow my brain and heart were on two different wave lengths and threatening to break my heart before it could piece itself back together from the last mess. My eyes perked as they caught a glimpse of Jackson walking into Ma’s, a laundry bag slung over his shoulder as he lugged a jug of detergent in his free hand. He looked up as I looked over, and the corner of his mouth curved up into a weak smile.

“Hey,” Jackson grumbled and tossed his laundry bag up on the row of washers, I curled my legs under me and casually tossed him a smile. “Didn’t think you’d show,” he muttered.

Uh oh, what did I do now? I furrowed my eyebrows, “where else would I be…?” I asked.

“I dunno maybe off with your friend,” I watched as he racked his mind for a name, his face contorting with his thoughts, “Aaron…”

I raised an eyebrow, “Aaron? Why would I do my laundry with Aaron, his mom does his laundry.”

Jackson struggled to laugh; he wanted to, you could see it on his face. “Why’d you bring up Aaron, I didn’t know you knew him.”

“I don’t…” he muttered, “he and Casey walked into Starbucks this morning and they were just talking about how he spent the night at your place…”

I frowned, “I wasn’t aware you were so into eavesdropping on my friends conversations.”

“Well I fully intended on saying hi to Casey, but she seemed preoccupied with their discussion of your relationship with Aaron.”

“I’ll have you know that Aaron is one of my best friends,” I said getting defensive. Oh this was turning into an amazing night. I hated getting defensive; if I wanted to be defensive I would’ve been a lawyer. I sighed heavily, and looked over at him, “look, I wasn’t feeling alright and Aaron is always there for me, he stayed with me through the night and left in the morning,…though I don’t see how any of this is your business.”

He lowered his gaze to his shoes. I’d obviously, and unintentionally ripped him a new asshole and it was now eating away at me for the next few silent moments.

“You’re right,” he muttered as he dumped the contents of his laundry bag into a washer, “it isn’t any of my business.”

I rolled my eyes, this was getting me nowhere, and I felt the washer stop rumbling beneath me and eased myself to the floor before opening the washer and tossing my damp clothes into a free dryer. Silence tore through the facility and was muffled by the sound of rumbling washers and spinning dryers. I tossed a few more clothes into the washer added detergent, spun the knob and slammed the lid shut before turning to Jackson, “this is ridiculous.”

Jackson raised an eyebrow, “what?”

“This,…the other night we talked, had a blast, discussed dryer monsters…”

“And sock gnomes,” he muttered as he crossed his arms and listened intently.

“And sock gnomes,” I repeated, “look all I’m saying is this cold shoulder routine is RIDICULOUS.”

And then he smirked. I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to kiss him or pummel him for that smirk. “Do you have any fabric softer?” he asked. This boy was going to be the end of me. I blushed and grabbed the jug of fabric softener I’d brought and handed it to him.

He looked over the label carefully, “I’m gunna smell like a girl, aren’t I?” he smirked. I raised an eyebrow, “I mean really now lavender scented?”

I rolled my eyes, “I take offense to that.”

“You’re a femme, you can smell like lavender, I need to smell all masculine, like mountain spring fresh.”

“So you’re a mountain spring man?” I asked. Personally I preferred a tropical clean kind of guy, something about that specific scent reminded me of a nice surfer guy. I’d even settle for a clean breeze or an April fresh guy…but mountain spring? It’s almost like they’re trying too hard to be masculine. I chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Hmmm,” I hummed, “what?”

“You asked if I’m a mountain spring man and then chuckled.”

“So?” I asked. Good, he was annoyed with my games, good cause I’m sick of his games. I hope he knows what it feels like to burn now. I smirked. I rolled my eyes, and gave in, “I was just curious…”

“You don’t like mountain spring guys do you?”

I laughed, “Yup, you got me.” I raised my arms in defeat and ruffled through my pockets for my extra change to grab a soda from the vending machine. I could feel his eyes following me as I walked back with my soda and hopped back up on the rumbling washer.

“So what’s wrong with smelling like a mountain spring?” he asked.

I smirked and set my soda down on the next washer, and raised an eyebrow. “You really want to know?” I asked.

Jackson spun the dial on the washer and shut the lid and his washer began to rumble “Yes, I really want to know.”

“Well for one, a guy washing his clothes in mountain spring detergent is just asking too much…” I mentioned. “It spells out the message that you’re trying to hard to be masculine.”

“Is there a second part to that?” he asked. I raised an eyebrow. “You said for one…I assume there’s a second part to that…”

I curved my lips into a devilish smile, “oh, I just hate mountain springs…” I laughed in my head, it really did sound hilarious. In all honesty, Kyle was a mountain spring guy, when he did his own laundry. His mom usually did it, she loved using Tide Clean™ and then using this Downy softener with Febreeze in the citrus and light scent. It had a sweet and spunky scent that worked well with Kyle’s cologne. The smile drifted from my face as I thought about Kyle.

“So what kind of laundry guy do you go for?” he asked.

I subconsciously rubbed the bruises on my wrists where Kyle had grabbed me earlier on the Quad. “ An April fresh guy is usually nice…or a Tropical clean…”

Jackson smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He said and handed back the fabric softener. As I took back the jug his eyes lowered to my wrists where he caught site of the bruises. The look on his face turned into complete horror, “what happened?”

“Psycho ex boyfriend?” I asked turning towards the dyer as my clothes spun in it. I was really not having this conversation, was I? No…I would not have this conversation with Jackson, the Laundry Guy. I closed my eyes and tried to push the situation from the Quad to the back of my mind, “looking for sock gnomes,” I said watching the dryer closely. Maybe he would take the hint. My cell rang and I immediately pulled it out of my pocket and checked the caller ID: Douche bag. I groaned. And humoring the caller I answered the phone.

“Essie…Es I know you picked up.”

“Hi Kyle,” I said rolling my eyes and turning away from Jackson.

“You need to learn to control your friends.”

“And you need to learn to control where you put your hands.”

“Oh come on Es…it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“I beg to differ,” I groaned. “I asked you to leave me alone.”
“You know I can’t do that,…and you know you don’t want me to…”

“Kyle…I’m done with you.”

“And I’m not done with you…”

I rolled my eyes and felt Jackson pull the cell phone from my hand and he brought it to his ear and listened intently to Kyle ramble on, spouting his love for me and need for us to get back together. I crossed my arms as I could only imagine the things Kyle was saying. Jackson looked almost amused for a moment and I couldn’t help but find it extremely adorable.

“Estrella…are you even listening to me?” Kyle asked over the phone.

“Actually she stopped listening about three minutes ago,” Jackson said.

My jaw dropped, this was too much, now Jackson was getting himself involved in my dirty laundry. “Jackson, give me the phone,” I begged.

He shook his head.

“Who is this?”

“Jackson Elliot.” I lunged at Jackson to grab my phone back but he continually stepped out of the way. “Who is this?” Jackson asked.

“Kyle…”

“That explains a lot,” Jackson said sarcastically.

“Look, where’s Essie, we have some stuff we need to clear up.”

“Oh really?”
“Yea…we’re getting back together.”

Jackson laughed. I could only imagine what Kyle was saying. “Wow…well then you must be the jerk who bruised her up pretty bad.” Jackson said getting angry.

“Hey…look buddy, you don’t know anything about us or what happened, so why don’t you stay out of it.”

“Hey…look buddy…why don’t you leave her alone.” Jackson hung up the phone and handed it back to me as I stood in front of him with my hands on my hips. I was not happy, he could have potentially made the situation worse. And then he smiled. “All fixed.”

“I think you made it worse,” I grumbled and looked down at my phone as it began to ring again, this time I declined the call. I pocketed my cell phone and looked at him angrily and he just laughed at me.

“Oh come on Estrella, it can’t be that bad, if anything he’ll back off if he thinks there’s another guy in the picture.” I shook my head. I knew it wasn’t the truth. But whatever floats his boat. I give up.