Page 70 of Call the Shots
I left his room for the front door, propping it open. “Welcome in, boys!”
Hockey players shuffled inside, trash bags or hampers in their arms, overfilled with laundry. “Thanks, Bear!” Buttons shouted, dropping his basket.
“Nope, we’re going down together.” I shook my head. “We’ll follow him downstairs.”
Bear walked out. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Since you lost thebet,you agreed to wash my clothes. I offered the bargain to the team. As long as they have their stuff together with detergent, you’ll spend the day doing laundry.”
“What?!”
“You lost the bet,Forty.”
Bear’s ears turned pink. “I?—”
“You lost the bet.”
“You don’t really expect me to?—”
“You. Lost. The.Bet.”
Some of his teammates elbowed each other, asking Bear what the bet was about, while he glared. Whatever. I won the bet fair and square, and as much as Montoya tried to plead he didn’t need clean laundry, I put him at the front of the line, with his bright green basket.
I clapped my hands. “Everybody downstairs!”
“Is this a prank?” Bear demanded while we marched to the laundry room. It was quiet during the summer, everything untouched. I sat up on one of the washing machines to supervise.
“If I bought you a maid costume, would you wear it?” I wondered.
Bear swore under his breath before tossing in items from Fridge’s hampers.
“Those are separated for a reason, Bear. Lights and darks.”
His look was deadly, but he took them out of the washing machine.
“Can I do homework here?” Montoya asked.
Bear tried to say no, but I told him to go for it. Some of the guys broke out boxes of crackers and chips, sitting on the washing machines too, and music played from somebody’s phone, everybody vibing out while Bear cursed over his chores.
“This is bullshit.”
“You’re learning how to do laundry, and this is a way better apology to Montoya?—”
“I said sorry?—”
“Saying things and doing things have a different impact. A shitty apology from a party won’t cut it.” Watching him fumble with the washing machine was too much. I sighed. “I’m only showing you how to do this once.”
“You didn’t put in enough detergent?—”
“Do you see the line on the cup?Thisis where you’re supposed to go.”
“I’m not touching you—” Elijah called from the corner, poking at a senior player. “I’m not touching you, I’m not touching you, I’m not touching you?—”
Fridge held up a deck. “Anyone want to play cards?”
“Oh, yeah, I’ll play.”
“I’ll play.”
