Chapter 17 - Laundry

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It was nice to keep talking to him. He was actually asking more about me, me, not Antarctica. If I gave him an answer with that word in it, he’d make me answer it again. It was interesting. He stopped digging through my locker, one day I’d find out why he was in it in the first place. My stutter was only showing its head when I was very, very nervous or intimidated. It was coming along, it all was. Harry was helping me adjust to this entire new life I had.

 It was nice to be around someone so… calm. He wasn’t rowdy like half the boys here. He held a maturity to him, like he had been through a life that helped him grow. I didn’t truly know if it that was a good or bad thing.

“No!” My mother screamed at the top of her lungs.

“What?’ I rushed downstairs, seeing her and my dad soaked in water, our laundry room over flowing. “What happened?” I shouted, grabbing towels frantically.

“This thing has been on the fritz since we moved in! Oh gosh!” she grumbled and took the soaking wet clothes that were still soapy, tossing them into a plastic tub. The washing machine kept spewing water. “Shoot, shoot,”

We all started trying to contain the mess but my mom came in, changing into shorts and a T shirt. “Honey, can you run to the towns laundry mat? Just ring them out in front of the house really fast?”

“Sure,”

My dad helped me lift the heavy bucket and I dumped the excess water out. I rung out the clothes and grabbed change from my dad and extra soap. I drove into town, lugging the box inside when I froze, seeing Harry. He was standing tall in a pair of fitted black jeans, and a blue and black flannel button down, with touches of white.

“Hey Finley,”

He still caught me off guard. I would… I would consider him a friend now. We talked much more frequently and my stutter was calm after a few moments of conversation. It was still so different to me. I hadn’t had anyone but my parents to talk to before.

“H-Hey,”

“Why are you all wet?” he asked, after looking me up and down, seeing my soaked clothes.

“Our w-washing machine puked, water is all over the place.”

“That’s no good.”

“Not at all.” I stared at the big, boxy machine, clothes swishing nearby. “You don’t have a washer?”

“Mine’s busted too, it’s getting fixed tomorrow.”

“Ah,” I shifted through the clothes, trying to separate it all. Harry gathered up more clothes and threw them into a nearby machine, the coins clunking in with ease. I opened up big door to a machine and started grabbing things like tank tops. I realized, this was mostly my laundry.

“I hate laundry.” He huffed.

“Me too,” we both rose at the same time from our baskets and I flushed, realizing, I was holding a pair of my simple blue and white underwear. Harry glanced at them and I chucked them as fast as I could into the machine. I was flaring red; I could feel my skin boiling. I shut the door to the machine after I put soap in it and slid the coins in. I was looking at the buttons; most of the instructions had rubbed off. “Um…”

“Here,” he reached over and pushed the button for me. It roared to life and started swishing around.

‘T-Thanks.” I stared down and slid my bucket over. I tossed in another load of laundry, quick to hide my bra in a pillow case.

“You’re still blushing?” he smirked, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall of washers. “It’s a pair of underwear Finley.”

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