Page 16

Chapter Thirteen

Ashland

Penny sits on the edge of her bed confused as fuck. I recount the story to her of Koda inviting us to do laundry, leaving out the fact that I drew him a picture, or that he bought me a present. She just came out of the studio after several hours, and her hands are covered in paint.

“We’re supposed to what?”

I’m splayed out on the hardwood floor. Unlike my trainwreck of a room, Penny’s is just messy enough to be cute. She has cohesive decor on the walls with pictures and art accompanied by a color scheme that matches. She says if you make it feel like home then you feel more in control of your life. My room is dark and black like a funeral, so I guess I'm at home in a coffin.

“Koda said we could use his washer and dryer.”

“To do laundry?”

“Yeah.”

“This sounds less like laundry and more like getting dicked down on the washer while it’s on the spin cycle.”

“Add it to the list,” we say in tandem, descending into a fit of laughter.

The list is an imaginary place where all of our icks, funny sayings, and anything we find interesting goes.

“Nope. I told him to leave us alone there.”

She scrunches her face up. “And he agreed to that?”

“I had all night to think about it. It makes sense. Make me think he’s wrapped around my finger when he’s really just keeping tabs on me. Free washer and dryer,” I say like it’s all so simple.

“Don’t you think you might be blowing this out of proportion? Maybe he just saw you won a big award and didn’t know how to say congratulations without being a dick. I mean, you guys have sex.”

“He showed up at one in the morning and didn’t want sex,” I remind her.

“Shit, yeah it’s weird.” She starts picking clothes up off of the floor. “Let’s fuck his shit up.”

It takes two hours to get ready. Driving to his condo is a bigger task than we anticipated. Penny had to get in first and I had to shove the door closed, hoping I didn't kill her in the process. As we stand on his front porch and knock, we compose ourselves.

When Koda opens the door he looks between us. “Where’s the laundry?”

“In the car,” I answer nonchalant while Penny smiles innocently. Little does he know.

“Okay.” He looks between us again. “Do you need help?”

“Oh my God, that would be great!” Penny is the best actress I have ever fucking met. I can’t do anything except for smirk, and Koda knows something is wrong.

I don’t think we left one shirt in the closet. We stripped the sheets and even grabbed stuff that we forgot existed. He looks wary before holding his hand out for the keys. I drop them into his palm, and we wait while he jogs down the steps. We snicker as he opens the trunk. Koda is calm. I don’t know how he manages to always keep it together when I work so hard to make him lose his composure. With a deep breath, he laces his hands behind his head and glances at us as we bite our tongues. We didn’t bring laundry baskets.

“This isn’t everything, is it?” There’s a smirk on his face. We’ve bested him, and he knows it.

I twirl my finger around and point at the door. He walks around the side and opens it. Laundry literally falls out of the passenger seat, and we can’t help but fucking laugh. He runs his tongue along his top teeth and comes back up, leading us inside, then stalks into his room.

“What the hell? Nice place.” Penny gazes around. Koda emerges just as she says, “Serial killer vibes, though. Looks like he would display your hands everywhere or something.”

That stops him in his tracks. He has two laundry baskets, one in each hand. “You…She told you to say that, didn’t she?”

Penny looks at him with confusion. “Huh?”

“The hands thing. She…” He realizes he sounds stupid and shuts his mouth.

“Told you it looked very serial killer-y,” I shout behind him.

Penny opens the fridge and starts rifling through it. “This place is fucking barren. Why is it all healthy?”

“He’s a psycho.” I sit on the counter.

Koda drags in the first basket full of laundry. He doesn’t even pay us any attention before leaving again. I hop down and start separating things. Once I’ve gathered a bunch of shirts, I open the doors to the laundry closet. I don’t see any detergent.

“Ko!” I call out.

I imagine he’s taking another breath. He’s gonna need a fuck load of them.

He appears next to me. “What?”

“Laundry detergent.” He reaches up onto a shelf that’s way too high. “Who puts their detergent all the way up there?”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he hands it over. “People who aren’t the size of a middle schooler.”

I drop the stuff onto the floor and open the lid to the washer, dumping whatever feels right inside.

He snatches it. “What are you doing?”

“Laundry. Duh.”

Penny walks around the corner. “Oh, he has the good shit.”

“You don’t need that much of it,” he argues.

“Uh, I want them clean,” I retort.

“You’re doing it wrong. There is literally a fucking cap so you can measure.”

When we cooked up this plan I didn’t even consider how his compulsion might factor in. I forgot he’s got a specific way for everything.

“Can’t do laundry wrong,” Penny says.

“Ignore him. He’s got a whole thing.” I lean down and grab a handful of shirts. I don’t even get it to the washer before he stops me.

“What. The fuck. Are you doing?”

Penny is absorbed in the interaction. I wave the clothes in the air. “We just settled this four seconds ago.”

“You haven’t separated it yet.”

“Yeah, I did. Shirts.”

“The colors, Ashland. The goddamn colors. Lights and darks.”

“It’s all the same.”

“No." His jaw ticks. “It isn’t.”

This is getting better and better with every second that passes, and we haven’t even started. I take the handful of mixed shirts, and hold his gaze while I drop it in the washer. His hands are in fists at his sides. He bites his lip in frustration and with a deep breath, he removes them from the basin. Then he begins separating.

Penny watches him with amusement. “Are you going to do this with our underwear? I would prefer that you didn’t.”

When he’s done, he puts all of the ‘light’ colors in the washer. I pick up one of my black tees to toss in, and he snatches it before I can. “Go.”

“But you said—”

“I will do the goddamn laundry. Go sit in the fucking kitchen. Go literally anywhere else. Just stay away from the laundry.”

The Cunts are at it again. We look at each other and shrug, going out to the couch and collapsing onto it. We’ve won this round.

“Is he always like that?” Penny giggles.

“I mean, yes, but I’ve never seen him this wired.”

He stalks out of the house to go grab the rest.

“Do you think he’ll really do all of the laundry? I mean we really piled it in.”

“Oh yeah,” I dismiss her. “He’ll do all of it because we weren’t doing it the right way. All we’ll have to do is fold one thing the ‘wrong’ way, and he’ll do that, too.”

“This might be the greatest thing to ever happen. Too bad he won’t do it again.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. We should have him clean the house next.”

We both snicker. Penny grabs the controller from the coffee table and flips the TV on. She sifts through stuff until she finds some stupid movie we’ve seen a million times. The front door slams shut, and Koda starts sorting like a psycho. He doesn’t say one word to us. We almost forget he’s there until he sits between us on the couch, seething.

“I thought you were going to leave?” I point out.

He yanks off his hat running his hands through his hair before putting it back on and crossing his arms. “If I leave you here alone you’ll switch the laundry one time, and then the clothes will sit in the washer for hours while you two smoke weed. Nothing will get done. Don’t think I didn’t realize half of that shit is, allegedly, clean already.”

“Allegedly?” I quirk a brow.

“Just shut up, Ash. Tell me what you two want to eat, and shut up.”

Look who is controlling now.

“Woah.” Penny’s mouth drops open. This bitch is drooling. Me too. She catches herself and blinks slowly until her eyes lock on me. “Did you bring the weed?”

“Of course I did.” I pull out my case and set it onto the coffee table.

“Food?” Koda reminds us.

“Italian.” Penny nods.

“Oh my God, yes. Italian,” I agree as I open it and pull out the papers. Koda gets on his phone and taps away while I roll a blunt.

“The only fucking thing you do right,” he mumbles to himself.

“Thank you. I pride myself on my rolling abilities.” I light it. “Want us to leave yet?”

“Nope.”

We continue like that, passing back and forth while Koda sits between us brooding, until the doorbell rings. Food appears in front of us. Penny starts to reach for it while Koda goes to get plates and silverware, but I stop her.

“Wait. He’s got a thing. Let him do the weird thing. I’ve pushed him pretty far.”

She nods, her eyes glassy. “I can’t fucking wait to see this.”

Koda returns, setting the plates neatly onto the table. Then he starts organizing the takeout containers while Penny watches in awe.

“What do you want to eat, Penny?” he asks.

“Alfredo.”

He opens one of the boxes and doles it out, handing it to her. He doesn’t even ask me before putting a mixture of pasta on a plate and shoving it at me.

“So you’re a control freak?” she asks between bites.

“Fucking rude. I thought you were nice,” he growls.

She flashes that sweet smile and Koda frowns. “Common mistake.”

The dryer beeps, and I start to get up.

“Ashland. Do not fucking touch it. I already know. Okay? I already know.”

“I could get used to this,” Penny says after he walks away.

“Don’t,” I warn her. “In three months tops he’ll get tired of it.”

“Do we have to drive him away?” she whines.

I stab my fork into a meatball. “It’s better if we control the timeline.”

“Whatever you want to believe.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, that guys don’t do your laundry when you make them mad.”

“It’s sex. Don’t read into it.”

“Then you must be giving him the fucking gluck gluck because we would have slammed the door in our own faces the second we saw the car.”

I roll it over in my mind as Koda returns.

“Two more loads.” We both snicker. “Fucking children. Laugh it up, Ash.”

“That sounded ominous,” Penny comments.

“It fucking is." He glares at me with a hungry fire. Oh shit, I’m going to pay for this. I didn’t think this through.

“If you hurt her, I’ll kill you,” she growls.

“Too late.”

Penny bites her lip and looks at me with a question of worry. I roll my eyes, as if it’s not a big deal that I’m letting him choke the life out of me and have me partake in every single thing that should trigger me.

He interrupts me before I can ask. “Yes, I’m going to bring the clean laundry in.”

The door opens and Alexi picks his way through the laundry left on the floor. “What the fuck is going on in here?” His eyes land on us sitting on the couch and amusement is splayed across his face in a goofy grin. “Not who I expected to see.”

“Come join the party,” Penny tells him.

“Please don’t,” Koda growls.

He looks at him warily. “Everything good?”

“Fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re…” Alexi looks between us quickly trying to figure out the right thing to say. “Micromanaging laundry.”

Koda swallows and bites his tongue. “Mhm.”

Alexi looks at me. “Can I talk to you?”

Koda stares straight ahead at the TV. “No. She’s busy.”

I’m getting a weird vibe, and I don’t like it. Penny and I silently talk through our eyes until she clears her throat. “We should take some of this to the car.”

“I’ll do it.” Koda jumps up and grabs one of the baskets of folded clothes, hauling it outside.

Alexi waits until he’s out of earshot to talk. “Listen, Ashy. I know you like to push people, but he’s got this whole thing—”

“We’re all mentally ill, Alexi. It’s no excuse. He’s been trying to manipulate me. He deserves this.”

“I don’t think that’s—”

I give him a look, and he shuts his mouth. “If Koda wants it to stop, then he knows what to do.”

He lowers his voice. “He’s fucking triggered. Look around.”

I laugh. “You think I’m not?”

Penny sits up straighter. “What do you mean?”

Fuck. Time to do damage control. “I told you Penny. I’m stressed.”

She’s not fucking buying it. “Can I talk to Ashland alone?” Her voice is even. She’s not angry, but she’s not happy.

“Yeah, I’ll go help him.”

As soon as Alexi is gone Penny starts in. “He said he’s hurting you.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like, Ash? Because Michelle said—”

I throw my hands in the air. “I know what Michelle said. Fuck Michelle. I should have never told you that.”

“I've let this go on for far too long. The sketches, Ash. The fucking sketches. Tell me what is going on. Brin said they’re—”

“You called Brin?” I ask incredulously. “You’re listening to my pyro ex now?”

“I’m listening to a pyro who knows you in ways that I can’t. Because I love you. I’m not your mom. I’m your best friend. I can’t take the internship if you’re losing your shit because he's triggering you. If I had known that, I would have told him to fuck off.”

I stab a meatball. “It’s not his fault. I told you Jeremy called.”

“Jeremy said he hasn’t spoken to you in almost six months. None of us are buying it.”

“I’m glad I’m the subject of your group text.”

“You fucking left it. What were we supposed to do?”

“Pretend I never existed!” I abruptly shout. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s not Koda. I’m just stressed. I haven’t been sleeping. That’s all.”

“Are you seeing him?”

I bite my lip, avoiding making eye contact. “I don’t really want to have this conversation here. Okay? You know how it is. I’m just struggling. That’s normal.”

Penny accepts my answer. “Alright. You know you’re a cunt, right?”

“The cuntiest cunt.” I grin.

When they return, Alexi is talking while Koda looks irritated. He shoves another basket at him and stalks down the hall to the laundry room. I get up and follow. I’m actually starting to feel bad. Alexi was right. I’m triggering him on purpose. While he’s being a dick to me, he doesn’t realize that his actions are tugging at something deeper inside of me that hurts and feel good all at once.

Koda is standing over the dryer, folding stuff and obsessively organizing it.

I immediately turn bitchy. “Are you going to make me put it away like that?”

He doesn’t even glance up. “I imagine you’ll shove it in a drawer or throw it on the floor.”

“Can I help?”

“No. You’ll—”

“Do it wrong.” I roll my eyes. “Let me just…Show me how to do it right.”

He freezes. “What?”

“Show me how to do it right so I can help.”

He scratches his head and then reluctantly hands me a shirt. Pulling another from the pile, he holds it up, demonstrating. I follow, fucking it all up, but he doesn’t snatch it away. For every five shirts he folds, I manage to finish one. He nonchalantly picks whatever I’ve done back up and re-folds it before adding it to the stack.

“You’ve been stealing." He holds up the third shirt that’s his.

“Finders keepers."

He chuckles. “Gonna steal my football jersey next?"

“Couldn’t find it,” I sigh. I might as well rip off the band aid. “I know I took advantage of—”

“It’s fine, Ash. I offered.”

“But we—”

“Don’t give me one of your veiled apologies. I know what you two did, and I should have expected it. It’s fine. I know it’s weird, but it’s soothing to see shit done right.”

“Oh, okay.” I understand what he means.

He runs his hand through his hair again. “Thanks for not saying anything about it.”

I cross my arms and lean against the wall. “About what?”

“Alexi is always worried that I’m backpedaling when I do things my way. You never say a word. You just let it happen.”

I’m stunned. I never really questioned it. It’s just his way. “He knows you. The people closest to you worry. He just cares.”

“It’s annoying.”

I recall my earlier conversation with Penny. “It is. They mean well, though. Sometimes others can see the spiral before we do.”

He leans against the dryer across from me. Another all too real conversation with Koda.

“Did you learn that in therapy?”

I tuck my hands behind my back and avoid his gaze. “I did.”

“Mine said something similar.”

“You have a therapist?”

“Had. I stopped in high school.”

“Wow, your parents must have cared about you,” I tease.

“I don’t think that’s fair to say about yours. Most parents just don’t know how to help because they’re trying to figure it out just like we are.”

“You think I want you to hit me because my parents were healthy people just trying to navigate life? Did I hear that right?”

His face reddens, and he lowers his voice. “I’m not hitting you…Am I? I thought you liked it.”

“I do. I’m a masochist,” I placate him. “I was just fucking with you. I’m sure they were doing their best.”

If their best was getting high, soaking themselves in alcohol, and beating us until we were almost dead, then they were doing a damn good job. It makes me start to question it all though. I didn’t know my mom’s parents. I knew my paternal grandma for one summer because my dad dropped us off and didn’t come back until someone dropped his sorry ass off on the front lawn. She died that fall. She had been the only person who had been nice to me like that until Penny. I’m so lost in thought that I don’t realize Koda is leaned over me with his forearm against the wall until he grips my chin and forces me to look at him.

“Is there anything you don’t like?” The air is charged with sexual tension.

“Orange.”

“The color?”

“The color. Orange juice, unless it’s real. When things ‘taste’ orange. It doesn’t taste like fucking orange. It tastes like manufactured bullshit.”

“Usually people say that about banana.”

“I don’t expect it to taste like banana. Citrus is a different animal entirely. Doesn’t belong in candy. It’s wrong.”

Something inside of him awakens. “It’s wrong?”

Oh. It’s a trigger, but the good kind. I pressed the right button.

“Yeah.” I look up at him through my lashes. “It’s wrong.”

Coal black eyes eat me alive, and his hand smooths my cheek. I’m soaked. I forget the entire day, my heart racing at the prospects.

“Is the laundry done?” Penny asks pointedly.

Koda clears his throat and jolts away. “Yeah. I’ll come over and bring it in.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t imagine how long it took you two to get it out of the house. If I don’t help you, the car will become a closet. You didn’t even have baskets. I’m sure.”

“Suit yourself.” She shrugs, grabbing the shirts and leaving us standing there.

He gives me a longing look before grabbing a basket full of folded laundry and follows. There’s actually room for us this time when we drive home with Koda behind us.

“So, what were you two doing in the hallway?” Penny sings.

“I was just apologizing," I sing back.

“Looked like you were about to blow him.”

“I wasn’t,” I say primly.

“I’m gonna say something that’s gonna annoy you.”

“Go for it.”

“You like him.”

“I don’t.” My hands grip the steering wheel tighter. Do I?

“I haven’t seen you look at someone like that before.”

I cast her a sidelong glance. “You have.”

“Nah, it was never like that with Brin. That was total infatuation. This is different.”

“Whatever. You’re just a romantic.”

“Koda actually seems like a nice guy,” she pleads. “I know he’s being a dick or whatever, but he’s also being nice, and it seems genuine. He’s honestly never done anything that makes me hate him. He gives you orgasms. He feeds us and brings shit to the shop without you asking. He never lets you walk home because you could get murdered. He took you to the football locker room to study because it was quieter. He gave you a car. He just did all of our laundry. The only thing that bugs me is what you said earlier about you being triggered.”

“I’m not. You know I like rough sex, and he knows exactly how I want it when I want it. He’s not triggering me.”

“So he’s, like, being a total gentleman, taking your shit, and giving you everything you want?”

I hear what she’s saying, and I don’t like it. “It’s called manipulation.”

“It’s called Koda liking you. You’re both just being fucking weird about it.”

I balk. “He doesn’t like me.”

“This isn’t middle school, Ash. Open your fucking eyes.”

We pull up to the house, and I throw it into park. “It won’t last. It never does.”

She turns to me, taking my hand and grasping it. “I’m not telling you what to do. I’m just asking that you look at the obvious. He likes you. You like him. I don’t know why you two are making it so fucking complicated. I think you should just consider it. If you change your mind, I’m here to help you navigate. That’s all.”

I sag into the driver’s seat. “I love you, Penny.”

“Love you, too. I’m high and wired. My creative juices are flowing. Put my laundry away for me?”

“Of course.”

She jumps out of the car and runs up to the house as Koda opens my door. “Where is she going in a hurry?”

“Artist stuff.”

We gather some of the clothes and music is already blaring from the studio when we get inside. He starts piling things onto the counter, not bothering to push the envelope of going into our rooms.

“Maybe I’ll see you Saturday.” He’s so casual about it.

Fucking Cuntsgiving. I already almost forgot about it. To be honest, I’m not really in the mood, but if I tell Penny that, she’ll cancel. This year especially sucks, and she’ll be more concerned than she already is.

“Don’t worry about it.” I grab some of the shirts and walk away. I don’t even say bye.

I hear the front door shut quietly and the roar of his Jeep starting. There should be some sort of relief washing over me now that he’s gone, but it doesn’t come.

It’s just sexual frustration, I reason.

Even I don’t believe that lie. Penny might be right. There is a very tiny pinprick of a possibility that I might like Koda. I try to find something, anything, to give me the ick, and it isn’t working. It will come in time. That’s all I need to do. Give it time. It will inevitably show itself, and I’ll be over the whole thing.

Cuntsgiving looms over me like a dark storm cloud. It’s been four years since I got away from Damien. Four years of friendship with Penny. The anniversary symbolizes so much for us. It’s happy and sad. Scary and reassuring. It’s a promise for the future and a fuck you to the past. With Damien making his way into my intrusive thoughts recently, I try to look toward the positives the way Penny does. I know it isn’t easy for her either.

I collapse into my bed, discarding the laundry onto the floor the way Koda said I would. It won’t stay there. I’ll put it away because I promised Penny I would, but I need a moment to collect my thoughts. My body is exhausted. I close my eyes, trying to will myself to sleep.

Penny. Adventures. Calm. The scent of the breezy sea. Clear skies.

Stars.

Chains. Hands. Hot Metal. Knives. Amber Eyes. Evil grins. Blood.

Fuck.

I get up. Guess the laundry won’t wait.