The Time Capsule (Harry Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 28

Madden's POV
9 months gone

   I'm doing my clothes at the local laundry mat when I get the phone call that changes everything.

   Again.

   Imogene and I have a pretty nice set up with our little house, but a washer and dryer is something we don't have and obviously can't afford to buy.

   So every Sunday I make the short walk with my dirty clothes and spend the better part of my day washing everything I need to wear for the next week.

   Most people probably despise this, but I find it kinda enjoyable. I sit and read a book or write letters to Harry that I'll never mail him. It's therapeutic for me in a way and helps me make sense of the many emotions I feel on the daily.

   I should say, it's usually peaceful, until Imogene decides to do her laundry on the same day as me and accompanies me for the time we're stuck here together.

   She tosses her head back and dramatically groans again. "How do loads of laundry take this fucking long to wash?"

   "It does not even take that long. Like 4 hours at most."

   "Do you know all I could accomplish in the 4 hours I sit and waste my life away here?"

   I roll my eyes at her theatrics, no longer surprised by them. "I highly doubt I even want to know the answer to that question."

   "Probably not my little Virgin Mary."

   It's on the tip of my tongue to deny being a virgin, but it'll only encourage her teasing or lead her to asking more questions.

   Imogene has come up with some crazy theory that I was trapped in nun school and escaped one night and ended up here. She blames that on me not taking a different man home every night like she's highly accustomed to do.

   Not that I care or judge her for it, it's just not something I have any interest in.

   "Are you ever going to indulge me about who you were before you ended up here in LA?"

   "There's not much to tell." I lie. There's so much to tell I could probably write a whole book series about it. But it wasn't a story I was ready to tell.

   I liked being anonymous here, an enigma. And I planned to keep it that way. Imogene could know everything there was know about me in present time, but I wasn't going to tell her anything about home.

   About who I was before I ran away to here.

   My phone buzzes in my pocket, saving me from having to come up with some other excuse that she'll know is completely bogus.

   My brow wrinkles when I see it's my mom calling. She never calls me on Sunday. We always talk on Monday during two of my classes when I had an hour and a half break.

   "Hey mom, what's up?"

   "Hey honey..I wasn't sure if you'd answer." She says hesitantly.

   "Do you call to just leave me a voicemail then?" I ask, not understanding why else you'd call someone if you assumed they wouldn't answer.

   "No..it wasn't that. I was just not sure how I was going to be able to tell you this. I guess in a way I was hoping you wouldn't answer so I didn't have to tell you."

   "Tell me what, mom?" I stand up from my chair involuntarily. "What's happened?"

   Someone's hurt. Someone's hurt again. That was all my brain could come up with that would make it so bad that my mom was worried about telling me.