emphasis.
I laughed. Who would have ever thought I’d spend a Thursday night in the basement with these two? Better yet, who would’ve thought I’d enjoy it?
Fifty-some minutes passed in a leisurely stream of conversation. The only interruption came when Gabby got a call. She finished up and tapped something on the phone’s screen. “Okay, gotta jet.” She pocketed the device, sprang from the floor, and dropped my magazine on the bench. “Mavey’s taking me to The Drag.” She wrenched her dryer open and tossed the nearly dried garments into her basket. “You guys want to come with?”
I shook my head. The Drag was a seedy bar on the corner of Lenox St. and Drake Ave. There was no way in hell Wallace would be up for going to a place like that. “He goes to church,” I explained, dismissing the invitation.
“Oh, okay.” She accepted the excuse easily enough, and I was proud of her for internalizing whatever had gone on inside that warped brain of hers. She bent down to grab her basket. “You up for it?”
“Nah, I think I’ve sworn off socializing for a while.” Socializing, of course, meant drinking—or anything else that made me feel like death warmed over.
She shrugged and sauntered toward the door. “Suit yourself.”
“Wait.” I cocked my head to the side. “Did you say Mavey, as in Maverick? You’re seeing him again?”
It was practically unheard of. Only once before had I seen her encourage any kind of follow-up communication with one of her bed buddies, and that was the D-bag who ended up cheating on her freshman year. She’d acted indifferent, but I knew it really messed with her head.
“Yeah, I guess.” She jerked on the door handle. “Is that a problem?”
“No.” It wasn’t like I wanted to call her out on it. If anything, it was a good sign. Unless…“Hey, make sure you take it back to his room this time.”
One of the dryers buzzed as her lips pulled back into a wicked curve.
“I’m serious!” I didn’t care if Jinx was in Maverick’s room or not. I was not getting kicked out of my room overnight again.
“I hear ya.” She laughed, bumping the door back with her rear end. “Catch you guys later. It was nice to see you, Ace!”
The door clicked shut, and another dryer buzzed.
Wallace looked a little confused, hesitating before he moved to get his clothes from the dryer.
“Sorry about that.” I got up and pulled my own dryer door open, reveling in the heat that swirled out to greet me. It smelled like fields in bloom, and I inhaled deeply. “She has a thing for giving people nicknames.” I glanced around the door. “Sometimes she calls me Ree.”
“It’s fine.” He shook his head and went about his business, not bothering to look at me.
An awkward silence settled between us as I folded my clothes, laid his on the bench, and cleaned out the lint trap. Gross. The muted rainbow of fuzz definitely belonged to more people than just me. I shuddered, flinging it into the trashcan.
“So, I’m a church guy?” His voice startled me as it echoed around the empty room. “That’s my new category?”
I stopped gathering my things to look at him. “What?”
“Well, you spoke for me and used it as an excuse, so I assumed it was my new title. I guess I should be happy I’m not the crazy guy anymore.”
My nerves twitched. I did say that, didn’t I? It hadn’t even occurred to me that he might’ve taken offense. “I’m sorry. Did you want to go? I can call her or some—”
“I didn’t want to go.” He crossed the space between us in two long strides, laying my clothes in a neat pile atop my basket. “I was just wondering what one had to do with the other.”
I felt sick to my stomach, realizing how I’d come across. “I just figured, since you’re so religious, you wouldn’t want to go bar hopping with people. I really didn’t mean to insinuate anything.”
When he didn’t reply, I grabbed his clothes from the bench and folded them.
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