ETHEREAL

CHAPTER 17

"Ugh, I thought that y'all were rich, like we would be going to Spain and having hella vacations. Can you even co-sign for my student loan, or an apartment for me?"

Justin sounds so entitled and lately, I can't tell if he is joking or being completely serious, but I have a bad habit of giving everyone the benefit of the doubt until they usually (99% of the time) egregiously and grievously betray me in the worst possible way.

"Sorry you're so disappointed," I try to laugh it off. I think about how my dad actually asked my mom if we should co-sign for Justin's art school student loan, and both of us said no, as he admitted that he isn't actually interested in obtaining a degree, especially from an art school because he doesn't do any type of art, but he just wants to live on his own and tell everyone that he is in college.

"I'm serious!!! I thought that we would be taking at least one vacation a year... and when the fuck will the dryer and refrigerator be fixed?" He sounds incredibly indignant, like he was tricked into living here.

I roll my eyes and snap, "So, find a rich family to stay with!" It does suck how our refrigerator doesn't work - only the freezer works, so everything in the refrigerator is covered with a layer of frost, and I hate how the harshness of the laundromat keeps ruining my clothes by making them look incredibly faded and it pills the fabrics in the most unattractive way. "Ugh, just put all of your clothes in this trash bag, and let's go to the laundromat again," I sigh.

The laundromat is absolutely frigid. The heat isn't on at all, because the owner doesn't want to attract the homeless in this already sketchy neighborhood that we live in, or at least that is the reason that he gave my dad. My dad drops off Justin and I, and I swear that it is colder in this laundromat than it is outside.

"GODDAMN, IT IS SO FUCKING COLD! Damn, I wish that I found another house to live in!" Justin starts complaining, and I start laughing hysterically, because there is nothing else to do as neither of us have cell phone service at the shop, and it is freezing cold.

The owner pops his head up from around the corner, in which there is a locked back room with a heater, to say, "OH, sorry, guys! Just put the A/C on, can't have those hooligans running around in my shop, again. You know how it is!" Justin and I comically groan at the exact same time.

It is literally 15 degrees outside, and the A/C is blasting in this shop. We sit on the hard bench, hug our knees and lean against each other to try to keep warm somehow. I swear that my teeth start chattering. "Skye... Skye. I feel like I'm in the fucking Titanic. When will your dad be here, I mean, damn!!!" I feel like I'm zoning out, just staring into nothingness, and lamenting about how I hate living in Maryland. It isn't terrible in the summer, back when I was able to swim outdoors, enjoy a blue raspberry or mango pineapple snowcone while sitting on those plastic pool chairs in the warm sunlight, go to the beach, or the mall to avoid my hot and humid house sans air-conditioning, but every other season sucks. It's official. I love summer. I want to live in California, in which it is summer every single day.

"Skye? Skye?! When can we leave?!" I break out of my daydream, and drone, "Like 2 hours from now..." Justin wails and howls so loudly that every single person in the shop takes one look at us and promptly leaves their clothes, presumably to go to the warm convenience store next door. The last time we tried that, we were kicked out for not buying anything. I tap on my phone, willing it to get at least one bar of service. Tap tap tap. "Can't you just buy a new refrigerator and washer and dryer?!" Justin whines. I mutter, "Can you buy them for us?" Tap tap tap. Yes! I got one bar. I text Damien, what are you doing?, and wait.

Five minutes later, but it feels like five hours due to the cold, Damien replies, "nothing, just laying on my bed, playing guitar." I text back, "Ooh, what are you playing? We're stuck at the laundromat since the dryer is still broken." He replies, "your dryer is broken?" Ugh. I love talking to Damien, but the amount of drugs and alcohol that he has blithely consumed to fry his brain results in runaround, frustrating conversations, in which he doesn't ever answer my questions, despite how simple they are, nor does he remember anything that I have told him, ever before. His memory just seems completely shot, which is unfortunate, because he seems intelligent besides that. "Yeah... hopefully, my dad can replace it in a couple of months, or so," I reply. At first, I liked how Damien never brought up my future, but now it nags at me that maybe he doesn't actually care about me nor does he know me, and what do we really have to talk about? It is fun to hang out with him, most of the time, and I feel like I'm in an ethereal dream when I'm kissing him, but he is so secretive. He wants me to fully answer his questions and accept that he will be completely closed off, as he never answers any of mine. Damien asks me, "Do you want to get breakfast tomorrow?" My treacherous heart speeds up at the thought of seeing him again so soon, even though I hate waking up, and breakfast really isn't my thing, unless it's served at 1 or 2 PM, maybe 11:30 AM at the earliest.