Cheer.

The man assisted me in carrying the two laundry baskets out to the car, placing them in the back seat in a way so that neither of them would tip over. Well, really, the arranging of the hampers was all his idea, but they looked perfectly secure when the door was shut, so I was satisfied. Though, to be perfectly honest, even if he would have dumped the hampers in the back without checking to see if they would tip over on the way home, I would have been satisfied.

Because I only lived about three blocks away.

"Are you gonna be paid overtime for this?" I asked him, walking around the car. I leaned up against the driver's side door.

He scratched the back of his neck. "I don't think so, I mean, we're not even supposed to be open right now. It's like ten-thirty."

"Wow," I said, stressing the 'o' with my lips, open in a perfect circle. "I am so sorry. I didn't even know how late you guys were open, since I usually don't come here... I usually use the machines at the apartment building, but that really isn't the point..."

He tried to look like he could care less. "It's fine, an extra hour and a half doesn't make a difference when you're stuck doing laundry all day long."

I smiled. "Just thank you," I said, opening up the car door while hopping inside. I rolled the window down, "Take your thanks like a man and don't try and give me excuses."

"Fine, fine," he sighed, trying to be funny. He walked around the car so that he was in front of my window. "You're welcome, I guess." He kicked a rock by his foot, mocking me with an exaggerated pout.

My eyes narrowed playfully. "You're so difficult."

"You're so..." He trailed off mindlessly. "Finiky."

"Shut the hell up," I smirked, starting up the car. The engine revved, and I strapped on my seatbelt. "I like 'finicky.'"

He rolled his eyes, turning around and starting to walk back to the laundromat.

I frowned. "Fine, don't even say 'goodbye!'"

He continued walking, but switched to going backwards as he turned back around to face me. He waved at me once, gave a little smile, then turned forward once more.

I guess that'll have to do.

I left the lot as soon as he walked inside Classic's, disappearing into the back room. Probably back there looking for another beer.

The minute-long car ride home was silent: just me, the fresh laundry, and the wind rushing into the car through the rolled down window to the left of me. It was comforting to know that the entire residence was flawless. I had done all there was to do, and I'd completed it in six and a half hours. Record time, for me, I'd have to say, as cleaning the apartment usually took me a day at the least.

But, as I unpacked the hampers, carrying both Anna's and mine, I thought back to the vivid conversation with that... guy... at Classic Cleaners. He seemed nice, though I hadn't ever hung out with anyone like him. Just his general disposition was unlike anyone I'd ever known; he was grouchier than Anna, drank more beer than me, swore more than my mother (boy was she a potty mouth), and was easier to read than... well, that would also be me.

That's not the point. The point is that I was in a state of profoundness as I unlocked the apartment's door and made my way inside. I hardly noticed Anna lying on the couch, watching TV as I passed by her with her hamper at my waist. Dropping it in front of her room, I plopped my own in front of the door leading to mine.

"Hey," I heard Anna call from her spot on the couch, "why are you home so late?"

"I know," I laughed, "it should be you getting home now, not the other way around."

"Just answer the question."

I sighed, taking a seat down in the recliner beside the couch. I leaned way back, stretching myself out so that my back cracked. Beside me, I could see Anna flinch; she didn't like it when I did that, she said it sounded like Satan.

"Did you not see me walk in with clean laundry?" I asked, staring at the television. A cartoon was on, though it didn't look too promising.

"No."

"Then you're blind. I cleaned the whole house-"

"I noticed."

"-I started right after you left, cleaned everything, included that damned room of yours-"

"Yes, it's all very nice."

"-which was such a hassle to get tidy again. You might be the messiest person I know-"

"You smell like beer."

That was all it took to shut me up. My mouth closed, almost zippering shut, and she noticed. She might have been blind, but she wasn't deaf. A cheshire cat grin hopped onto her lips, digging its claws in so deep it just might never let go.

"Mel," she started, her voice slowly building, "why does your breath smell like beer?"

"Me and the guy at Classic's had a few beers while we were waiting for our clothes to get done."

She raised her eyebrows. "You sly girl, I know that you never go down there because of their prices."

"The washer here is out of order," I stated simply.

Pausing for only a moment, she shook her head and countered me. "Who's this guy at the laundromat?"

I sighed. "I don't know his name."

"So you guys did it and you don't even know his name? Smooth, Mel, real smooth."

Groaning, I slapped my hands onto my face, covering my eyes. "We didn't do anything, we just talked and drank beer while we were waiting for the clothes-"

"You liar!" she squeaked, turning on her belly to stare at me with excited eyes. "Classic's is only open until nine!"

This wasn't going well. If I didn't know what had happened, I'd be saying the same things Anna was. Everything added up: the beer, the lateness, the fact that Classic's was only open until nine... Nothing was going in my favor in this debate, and I figured that even if I continued trying to deny Anna's claims, she wouldn't believe me, anyways.

"How was your night?" I decided finally, genuinely interested.

She caught that in my voice, and smiled, deciding to answer. "It was great! He took me out bowling- I can't even tell you the last time I went bowling! It was just fun, he taught me how to throw a strike, how to throw the ball right. After that, we got dinner, then we headed down to that bar- you know, the one near the beach?- and had a few drinks. We didn't do anything, though, that was the funny thing. He kissed me, sure, but only once. I wondered if he even likes me; I mean, he's got to... Why wouldn't he have kissed me if he wasn't? Oh, well, nevermind. Anyways, he didn't invite me over to his place after the bar, or anything. He just gave me that one kiss. Do you think he likes me?"

I was about to respond, but she started back up again before I had the chance.

"Of course he does. He was just being polite." She sighed dreamily. "I really like him."

"You say that every time," I told her honestly.

She grinned. "But he's different."

"You say that every time, too."

We sat there quietly, watching the cartoon on the television. It wasn't entertaining in the least, like I had stated before, but it took our minds off the situation. Soon, after actually paying attention to the program, Anna decided that it wasn't worth her time; she pressed the power button, the darkness of the night engulfing us in blue. Neither of us bothered to get up to turn on the light so we could see the other, because, what was the point of seeing your peer when you had nothing to say to them?

"I think I'm gonna head off to bed," I told her.

"Okay," she said, "night."

I stood up from the chair and walked toward my bedroom. Once I stood before the door, I turned back to look at her. She was staring at me.

"And by the way," I added just before entering my room, "thanks for the heads up about not washing clothes right. You could have told me how to do it right, instead of insisting you do the laundry all the time."

"Sorry," she said.

I sighed, opening the door. "I felt like an idiot in front of the guy who works at the laundromat."

She was silent, and I took this as my chance to walk into my room and close the door behind me. It was late, and I didn't need to waste either of our time bitching about something I didn't even want to bitch about.

The last thing I thought about before drifting off to sleep was that guy at Classic's. He was nice. He had nice eyes. He had a nice smile. He taught me about laundry. And he gave me beer.

It would be nice, I thought, drifting off, if I saw him again. If I saw him on different terms, on our own terms. It would be nice if I went to see him again at the laundromat. It would be nice if I could do my laundry on my own. Now, that would be nice.

And, needless to say, I slept good that night.

"Going out on another date tonight?" I asked meekly, taking a sip of my just-made lemonade.

She was quiet for a moment longer before stepping out of the bathroom in a black tank top with a skeleton's head in the bottom right corner and her frayed jeans. Anna ignored my question, glancing down at herself quickly. "Do I look alright?" she wondered aimlessly.

I took another sip of the yellow juice. "Yeah, but you always do."

"Thanks," she said, walking toward the door where her black pumps lay in a careless pile in the corner. A smile was glued to her face, just like it always was when she was in a good mood. Like it always was right before she went on a date. "Tonight we're going to hang out with some of his good friends, then go to the movies, or something."

"You don't like sitting through movies," I told her. "You barely made it through Toy Story last time you actually wanted to watch it. Remember, that time you made me sit through it?"

She giggled. "Yeah. I fell asleep right after Buzz got to Andy's house." Pausing, she regained her composure. "But the point is really that I'm not even going to be watching the movie the whole time."

Her eyebrows wiggled up and down.

"Wow," I told her. "That's a little..."

"Eh," she shrugged, "it's kind of juvenile, but, you know-"

"-you're kind of juvenile," I finished for her.

Anna smiled. "Yeah, exactly." She slipped on her shoes, her spine straightening to add even more length to herself than the heels on the pumps provided on their own. "Hey, Mel, you mind letting me know what time it is?"

I glanced up at the clock on the microwave. "Six thirty."

She nodded, walking back into the living room and taking a seat in the armchair. "Now, all I have to do is wait for him to come pick me up." A long, heavy sigh blew from her lips, and she slumped downward into the seat. "I hate waiting."

"I know," I said, "but it's just 'cuz you're excited. I would be too, if I had a date."

A grin planted itself on her face. "You know, you could get a date easy enough, but you don't like dating people on a whim, because you know when you've met the right guy. Yeah, I know how you are."

"Not true," I said. "I just don't like randomly picking up guys that I know I don't like."

She huffed. "That is exactly what I just said, only put a different way. You are so finiky, sometimes."

"I get that a lot," I said absentmindedly, taking another sip of my lemonade while flipping the page of the magazine I was currently stuck in. The magazine was one of many Style magazines I'd found in Anna's "secret" stash. It was chock-full of fashion do's and don't's, in's and out's, and everything shocking or controversial in Hollywood. Usually, I didn't like going through these, because I really didn't like hearing about what was wrong with other people's wardrobes (page 12), or what could make mine better (page 49). I didn't like hearing about who was pregnant (page 73), or who had gotten drunk and taken off their shirts as at a huge club at two in the morning (page 36).

But, sometimes, they were fun to flip through.

My mind snapped to attention as soon as a knock came from outside the door. The glazed appearance that had taken over my eyes was suddenly gone as a more alert look took over.

"Who is it?" Anna called with a light giggle, her voice sing-song-y and cheery.

A deep chuckle came from the other side. "It's Bri-an," he called back in the same excited tone.

Vomit creeped up the back of my throat, but I forced it back down and turned my eyes back down to the magazine on the counter. My mind wasn't enticed by the articles, though; my ears had taken control over my entire body, shutting off all other senses so that I could hear the conversation between Anna and the man, "Brian."

"You ready to go?" he asked her as she opened up the door, pausing to look around the apartment. Well, that's what I surmised he was doing judging by his next statement. "Nice place, by the way. Very... what's the word? Clean."

Anna laughed. "My roommate has OCD."

I frowned, glancing up from the magazine my eyes had been occupied with. Instead, they turned upward to meet the man's, who must have been staring at me for a moment before I had even looked up.

He smiled. "Hey," he called, "I'm Brian."

"I know," I told him. "I'm Melanie."

Brian took a few steps toward me, passing by Anna to greet me at the kitchen counter. "Nice to meet you," he said, leaning his elbow on the flat surface casually while holding out his other hand out to me.

I took it and gave it one light shake. "You too," I told him honestly. "From what I've heard, you seem pretty nice."

"Thank you," he said, smirking a bit. "So she's been talking about me?"

"Yeah. Tons."

Anna glared at me from her place by the door.

"So, you have OCD?" Brian asked, looking around the apartment once again. "Lucky Anna, I'd kill to have my roommate be clean."

I raised my eyebrows surprisedly. "I do not have OCD, contrary to popular belief. I merely like things to be neat. It's not my fault Anna doesn't appreciate me."

"I do too appreciate you," she said, now advancing toward Brian and I.

"Liar," I said, pursing my lips as she leaned against the counter beside him. "So," I decided to change the direction this subject was heading, "you guys are having a party with your friends tonight? Sounds fun."

"I don't know about fun," Brian said casually, "but it'll be entertaining. I'll give the guys that."

"So it's just going to be Anna and a bunch of guys? Now that sounds like a good idea."

She smiled. "I have absolutely no objections."

"Well," Brian interjected, "there'll be Val- my friend Matt's girlfriend- but that's pretty much it on the ladies."

"I see," I murmured, taking another look up at the microwave. It read 6:53. "You guys'd better get going if you want to get there at 7:00. You don't want to make them wait, do you?"

"No, you're right," Brian said, "but I doubt they'd care."

I nodded. "Well, it was good meeting you, Brian."

He smiled, taking Anna by the hand while leading her away from the counter and toward the door. "You too, Melanie."

"Hey!" Anna grinned, suddenly stopping as they neared the exit. "I've got an idea! Why doesn't Mel come along? I mean, she doesn't get out enough, so it'd be good for her."

"No," I said.

"Oh, why not?" she begged, letting go of Brian's hand to stomp toward me once again. "You'd have so much fun!"

"Just because," I said, "no. I'm not ready to go out, judging by my t-shirt and sweat pants. Secondly, I don't want to hang out with people I don't know. You know how I get with people I don't know..."

"They're all really nice!" Anna told me.

"You haven't met them, either," I said.

Brian started to walk back to me again, too. "If you want to come, you can. They're pretty cool guys, they'd like you."

"See?" Anna smiled. "What do you say?"

I sighed. "I just don't want to go! Why is that so hard to understand? No, no, no, a thousand times no! You can't make me go with you, that is my final answer."

"But-"

"No."