ONNAXOFF

Chapter 6

“Is it far? Should I get the car?”

“No, just a short walk.” She hangs up before I even say bye.

When I get to her door a few minutes later, she’s wearing a yellow raincoat with black boots.

She looks at me for a few seconds and says “You do know sunglasses and a hat is only a good disguise in cartoons, right?”

“You’d be surprised how little I get recognised when I wear a hat.”

She shrugs and steps out, closing the door behind her.

When we get out onto the street, she lights a cigarette. As we walk, she barely says one word. It dawns on me that every time we’ve been together, we’ve been about to have sex. I’m not even sure I’ve ever seen her in broad daylight. Even so, this cranky vibe I’m getting off her is weird. She’s usually so… chill.

She stops in front of a place I’ve walked past at least a hundred times.

“This is it.” 

“I thought this was a laundromat.” I say, confused.

“It is.” She stomps out her cigarette and pushes open the door. She leads a straight path straight past the customers, through a black curtain at the back and up a set of stairs until we emerge into a large open space. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like a supermarket. If supermarkets had rows of tables instead of aisles and exposed brick where there should be plain white walls. The clean detergent scent lingering in the air is the only clue that we’re above a Laundromat. Little fairy lights dangle down from the ceiling, casting a bright glow on the pastel coloured tables covered in various foods and household products. 

The place is completely empty apart from us and a skinny guy in glasses at the other end of the ‘store’. Jessie wastes no time getting a basket from beside the door and walking down the first ‘aisle’, taking an assortment of items from what looks like the breakfast table. She steadily fills the basket with snacks and drinks. No ingredients, I notice. Nothing that requires any preparation. She grabs some candy off a shelf.

"This is where I get my groceries." She turns to me, as if suddenly remembering that I’m there. “Everything here is nut-free.”

“Has this always been here? Above a fucking Laundromat?” I ask, bewildered.

“Yeah. It’s perfect. What else have you got to do while you wait for your clothes to dry?” 

It sounds almost crazy enough to work.

“But how do people even know about this place?”

“Don’t you worry, baby. I get plenty business here.” A tall muscular guy stands up behind a white wooden counter at the end of the aisle. I was wondering where she was gonna pay for this stuff. She dumps the basket on the counter and reaches into her jacket pocket, pulling out a black credit card.

“No ‘Hi Raisin Bran’? No smile? What’s wrong with you? Didn’t eat lunch?” The guy asks her, ignoring her outstretched card.

“I didn’t even have breakfast. Not even a fucking cup of coffee.” 

“How did I know?” He says, pulling out a red flask from under the counter.

“Is that the Swedish coffee!?” She gasps, taking it out of his hands and holding it to her chest like treasure. “Just marry me, Brandon.”

“You’re not my type, boo. But I will take the number of that adorable guy you came in with the first time.”

“He has a girlfriend.” She says, as she unscrews the cover and pours herself some.

“For now.” He winks. “But I know a downlow gay boy when I see one.”

I stand at the side and watch the strange exchange go down. After downing a cup of the strong-smelling coffee, she thanks the guy and pays for her shopping.

"How did you even find that place?" I ask, once we get back onto the street.

“Google.” She smiles, in a noticeably better mood than earlier. I make a mental note: don’t fuck with her when she’s hungry.

She comes to a sudden stop in front of a cafe.

“I’m gonna grab lunch here.” She says, gesturing towards the cosy-looking place. “You’re welcome to join me. If you haven’t already got plans, that is.” Recalling my plan to meet Danny at the studio later to listen to some beats, I say “I’m free for the next hour or so.”

“Cool.” She turns and pushes into the cafe, holding the door open for me.

I follow her to a booth in the corner and take the seat opposite hers.

“Here’s the menu.” She hands it to me. “I wouldn’t recommend the chicken but their burgers are delicious.”

A middle-aged waitress approaches the table. “Back again for the double cheese, sweetie?”

“I’m back for you, Liv.” Jessie flashes a dimpled smile up at the waitress. “But if I can’t have you, yes. I’ll have a double cheeseburger with fries, please.”

“Oh, stop it you.” She waves the comment away, flushing. Noticing me, she says “And in front of this handsome fella too? Your boyfriend?”

“No, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s my…”

“Younger brother.” I cut in. “Stepbrother.” I add, seeing the waitress’ puzzled expression. Me and Jessie look nothing alike.

“She’s showing me places with the most delicious food and beautiful waitresses.”

Liv’s cheeks get redder. “I see the cheekiness is a family trait. You want the double cheese too, honey?”

“Please and thank you.” I smile as she leaves the table, muttering under her breath about her good for nothing husband and his lack of charm.

“Younger brother?!” Jessie asks, incredulously. “You think I’m older than you?!”

“You won’t tell me your age. So I have to assume you’re about 30?” I joke.

“Well, you shouldn’t assume things, it makes you look silly.” She indignantly picks up the menu, even though she’s obviously already ordered.

I chuckle, pleased that I’ve finally said something that got to her.

“And I’m almost 23.” She says without looking up from the menu.

“Almost meaning in a few months or…?”

“In February.” She says impatiently.

“Same here. February what?” I ask

"14th." She replies quickly. "Oh, by the way, their pies are good too. You should try the apple."

The date sounds familiar, like maybe I know someone else with the same birthday.

“Yeah, maybe…” I say to the pie suggestion. And then it hits me.

“Your birthday is on Valentine’s Day?!” The idea sounds ridiculous. In the short time I’ve known her, she’s not even shown the slightest concern for romance. She’s a pizza and beer kinda girl, not roses and wine.

"Yes, the irony isn’t lost on me." She already looks tired of the conversation, which has taken a turn for the personal. And we do not have personal conversations.

“That’s fucking hilarious.” I hold back my laughter. “Do you even believe in love?”

“No. And I hope you don’t think you’re the one who’s gonna change all that. Make me fall in love. Coz that’s just not going to happen.”

Now I have to laugh. “You think I want you to catch feelings?” I ask. Her expression’s changed to the lightly amused one I’ve become accustomed to seeing. She isn’t serious, obviously. “Listen, girl. No offence, but I’m not interested in anything from you but a little fun.”

“Good.” She smiles.

Looking back on that day months later, I realise that’s probably the first time I lied to her.