'i'm in my underpants in a laundromat waiting for my clothes to get washed and your clothes are in the machine next to mine and i noticed that when you put your clothes in they were all covered in blood what the fuck' au
As much as her mother tried, Karma refused to convert to the age-old process of handwashing her clothes, despite the environmental benefits. To curb this issue, her mother normally did her load as well, but tomorrow was Picture Day, and today wasn't laundry day, so her mother hadn't done it, so her best outfit was woefully still dirty. Karma was stressed because if her photo turned out horrible she'd die. Of course she wouldn't die literally, but she really wanted some positive attention and one way to get a sliver of that would be to look good in her photo.
So here she was, in a laundromat trying to wash her load of shit for a dollar. Key word: trying. The stupid machine wouldn't accept her quarters. "Ugh." She moved on to another while carrying her basket. The machine ate her coins nicely, eliciting from her a quiet shriek of victory.
Karma glanced over to the other person in her row. It was Amy Raudenfeld. She wore a beanie, flannel, and boots with a quiet dignity similar to an old tree. She'd never spoken to the girl before at school, yet she was anxious to talk to this gorgeous blonde. Karma hadn't heard anything bad about Amy, but she hadn't heard much of anything about her either. It seemed like she kept to herself, talking with drama nerds like Oliver and faceless people like Felix. Amy's beauty stood out like a lighthouse in the darkness even though her personality was still shrouded in mystery.
She could talk to this girl, definitely. Forget the fact that she was wearing a camisole and only a pair of tiny shorts with her hair in a bun, she could do this. Forget the fact that Amy Raudenfeld was sorta, kinda, maybe the most beautiful person she'd laid eyes on ever? Okay, her heart needed to calm down before she could even begin to think of what to say...
"Holy cow!" Karma gasped before clamping her mouth shut. Amy's eyes widened in surprise. Karma scoffed internally, she was the one who was entitled to being surprised because, holy macaroni, Amy Raudenfeld had just put the world's most bloodiest shirt into the washing machine. "Sorry! Just. Where the heck did all that blood come from?" She gestured wildly at the clothing.
Amy rolled her eyes. "None of your business, stranger."
"Fine, my name's Karma Ashcroft and yours is Amy Raudenfeld. There. We aren't strangers anymore. We're acquaintances. Now tell me how in Gandhi's name you got that much blood on yourself? Don't say it's your period."
"I butchered my newborn child," Amy deadpanned. Karma guffawed. It was easy to see how this girl wasn't popular. It applied to herself too.
"You're weird. My scare tactic didn't work." Amy looked quite impressed.
"Admit what really happened," Karma demanded.
"Strange indeed," Amy reiterated. She sighed heavily. "I'm afraid you're going to judge me for what I'm going to say."
"Try me," Karma challenged.
"Alright, so I was camping with my girlfriend- uh, ex-girlfriend," she corrected awkwardly. "Anyways, she had the bright idea to let me set up the tent by myself while she got wood for the fire so I did. And I did it really well, like really well for a beginner. Except one of the tent thingamajigs got stuck onto my shirt somehow some way. I try to get it out but it's obviously not working. So I'm like fuck, right, 'cause I'll look like a fool to my girlfriend. So I attempted using a really sharp knife to cut that part of my shirt off. Well it didn't cut my shirt. It cut my skin. Reagan found me like that- frantically trying to find the first aid kit in her truck. We had to use one of my shirts to stop the blood till we could reach a hospital. Mind you, we were hundreds of miles away from civilization."
Karma laughed. "How stupid."
Amy glared at her. "Everyone has accidentally cut themselves, you know."
She snorted, "Yeah, paper cuts. Not with a freaking knife."
"You're rude as hell."
"At least I'm not dumb as hell," Karma said with a giggle. "I'm guess you aren't planning on camping anytime soon?"
"Damn right I'm not." Amy paused. "Hey, how'd you know my name?"
"I'm not a stalker if that's what you're thinking," Karma joked, though she was nervous.
"I figured that much. I'm just curious. I don't stand out a lot," Amy explained.
Karma blushed. "I guess I like knowing everyone's name." She omitted the fact that she'd obsessively read the yearbook over and over to make sure she never forgot anyone's name on the off chance someone would try to talk to her. "Plus, you're hard to miss if anyone was looking for you. You're ridiculously stunning and all that..."
"Wait a second- you think I'm cute? You?" Amy asked incredulously.
Karma's nervousness came roaring back. "Yeah? Is that bad?"
"No, it's not. Just surprising, that's all."
"Really? Because I don't think that's all too shocking. I bet you have people tripping over you all the time."
Amy rolled her eyes. "You're flattering me. I could say the same for yourself." Karma's heart stopped. "Here's my number. Meet me for lunch at the cafe on Main at noon tomorrow?" She handed Karma a business card. Amy hadn't produced a feature film or anything yet but she'd gotten enough recognition to be included in a few film festivals in Austin, so she figured that was good enough to constitute having a couple stacks of business cards printed.
"Oh! Um, I guess I'll call you?" Karma said with more than a touch of uncertainty.
"I guess you will." Amy smirked. "See you around, Ashcroft."
