This weekend I did my laundry (finally), so naturally I have another Laundromat Fiction to share. If you didn't see my first post, laundromat fiction is the result of this strange urge I have to write fiction while I do my laundry (usually in a laundromat). This time was actually in a neighbors home, so that was a nice break!
Anyway, here's my unpolished, off-the-cuff story I wrote while laundry happened this week! As always, I'd love feedback and all that good stuff.
—Holli Anne
The girl wouldn't quit texting me, but hey, I didn't mind. I mean, I sort of minded, but the rest of me just enjoyed the attention.
At first anyway.
This godforsaken camp is the worst possible place I could be right now, so having a friend to distract me is pretty nice.
In a room full of peers wearing short shorts and baggy t-shirts—a trend I will never understand—this girl definitely stood out the most.
She wore these bright pink pants with strange yellow tassels that hung at the end. Describing it sounds hideous, but she actually pulled them off well. That was what I noticed more than anything, not that she had pink and yellow pants but that she was actually able to pull them off.
She wore them with a plain white shirt that was fitted. I decided to approach her because, the expression on her face looked about as excited as I felt to be here at this all girls camp my parents dragged me to.
"This should be fun. I'm Stephanie," she said as I approached her. It was sort of a backwards introduction and spoken with the utmost sarcasm. I knew I liked her.
"Brooke."
We started talking from there and decided to exchange numbers. I went to drop my things off in a room I was sharing with a really perky individual. Oh God.
My head was aching from the sound of her voice, almost before she even started really talking. And talking. And talking.
I was relieved when I saw a text from Stephanie. A distraction. An excuse.
I told my roommate I really had to take the call, even though it wasn't actually a phone call. I stepped outside and opened her message.
"My roommates killing my brain cells."
Ha, that was about right. "Same here."
"Wanna meet up by that lake outside?"
"Yeah. On the way."
We found one of those big mossy southern trees to sit in. We talked about just random things and it seemed we had a lot in common. Both our parents sent us here to get us to make more girl friends. Both of us were better at talking to guys. We hated sports. Loved books and art and other introverted things. Got by with average grades in school, less out of not knowing the subjects and more for just sheer defiance and boredom.
Nothing we said was really too deep. I didn't take this as one of those friendships that would last but it would do for the weekend. I wonder if this is what my parents had in mind when they wanted me to make more friends.
"Hey, we should tell our parents about each other so they are appeased we made a friend," I laughed. She, however, did not.
Her eyes sort of lit up in an oddly happy way and she nodded her head. At first a little slowly, but then she started picking up speed.
"I was pretty sure we could be real friends from here. Like best friends," her voice enthusiastic. It was off putting at best.
"I mean, yeah, that's what I meant. I mean, maybe not best friends yet. I don't really know you that well," I fumbled and tried to crack a smile. Is making friends really this hard for me?
She eventually told me she was joking, but there was a part of me that didn't really believe her. Once camp came to an end, my suspicions were confirmed.
Like I said, she wouldn't quit texting me. At first I was bored and so it was kind of nice and I responded. But then, geez, I had things to do, and I mean, every now and then it was fine, but she wanted to talk everyday.
I responded less and less, but she kept her speed going. She asked me to hangout with her one day, but since I wasn't really into the idea too much, I put her off another two weeks and then agreed to it.
I didn't have a half bad time either. Maybe I could be the friend making type after all.
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