Dangerously Close (A Collection of Fictional Short Stories)

| The Antique Washing Machine |

Word Count: 4443

From the driver side view of her blue buggy, Katrina Connerway stabbed her envious green eyes at Isaac Moore. The senior and his mess of brown curls stood on the front lawn of the school laughing with the school's redheaded fox, Rina. Katrina shook her head and poked out her bottom lip in pure defeat, if it could be called defeat.

For weeks now, she had been building the courage to ask the president of the thespian club to the senior prom, only for the fox to sneak her way into the pursuit and swoop him up. The conniving fox had witnessed her during study hall staring and drooling over Isaac while in the library. When they had made eye contact, the fox grinned and proceeded to approach him. With a fling of her hair over a bare shoulder, she asked him to prom, loud and flirtatious for her to hear and the stupid boy said yes.

"So wrong," she grumbled and cringed when Rina patted his muscled arm.

Katrina turned on the ignition and drove away before she had to endure another physical interaction between the two. She turned on 101.9 FM on the radio to drown her despair and spite and wanted nothing but to fill her belly with a carton of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

She parked in the driveway of her family's single home in Yonder Town, Pennsylvania and sulked onto the porch. With one snatch, she retrieved the two envelopes sitting in the mailbox and skimmed them.

The first one was another notice from the state department concerning their late bills and possible eviction of their family laundromat shop. Business has not been going so well, since the new and advanced High Power Laundromat was built and opened around the corner of the shop six months ago. Katrina's shoulders seemed to drop another inch in despair.

What more could go wrong? She thought only to gasp in total shock.

"Divorce Attorney," she read the company and the title of the sender on the second envelope.

She ripped open the envelope and skimmed the letter addressed to her mother, Hannah Connerway. Heat of rage simmered up her veins and into her reddening cheeks. She let herself into the house, grabbed what she needed for her night shift at the laundromat, and sped to the shop on two wheels.

The Connerway's 24-Hour Laundromat sat alone on an empty parking lot. Only her parent's cars and a customer's car sat in the lot, exposing to the world how lame they were. She stormed into the shop, both envelopes crumbling in her grip. The aroma of detergent, fabric softener, and wet clothing, once a comfort to her young soul, made her soul cringe. The settled noise of machines that used to be music to her ears, made her ears ring, a timer alerting a bomb close to exploding inside of her head.

She weaved through the empty aisles and barged into the office in the back of the shop. Her parents, Timothy and Hannah, jumped in start and gave her a confused look for her sudden appearance and attitude. But when their eyes glued on the envelopes in her hand, the color in their skin flushed pale.

"Katty," her dad managed to say, his green eyes widening as if he was a child that had got caught stealing.

"What is this?" Katrina said. "Here I am coming across another eviction notice only to find a letter from a divorce attorney."

"Katty, you weren't supposed to find out," her mom mumbled, eyes swelling with tears.

"Oh really? How could you two do this without even telling me?" she said waving the paperwork in the air.

When neither of them spoke, she stepped closer and slammed the paperwork on the desk. "Dad? Mom? What is this about? Why are you getting a divorce? What did I miss?"