Wash 8
Clarisse held up her phone, grinning into the camera
as she hurried up the stairs, following Drew, who stormed ahead
without a glance back.
She giggled, adjusting the angle of her live stream.
“Guys, this is crazy—I feel so pretty tonight.
What’s that? You mean, what happened to Drew,
my OMG BF? Did you guys see that. Oh my gosh, I know right.
Drew is on the warpath. Clarisse stomach starts to grumble.
“Cupcake break guys, will be back a little bit later. Chop chop!
But Drew wasn’t playing along.
He reached his apartment door and slammed it shut,
shaking the thin, aging walls of the dormitory.
Clarisse stopped mid-step, blinking.
The musty stairwell carried the distant sounds of laughter—
two guys talking by the hallway, a faint echo of footsteps from students
returning to their rooms. The dim light flickered slightly, adding to the eerie,
run-down charm of the old building.
Before Clarisse could process the situation, a hand snatched her phone.
“What the hell?” she shrieked, turning to find Betsy holding it up,
typing away with impressive speed.
“Chill,” Betsy muttered. “Just adding my number.”
Letty appeared beside her, shoving multiple shopping bags
into Clarisse’s arms. “Hold these.”
Clarisse blinked, completely thrown off. “Excuse me?”
Letty sighed dramatically. “We totally forgot we can’t bring these home.
Our boyfriends would freak out if they knew how much we spent today
And we obviously can’t leave these with Sylvia.” She shuddered. “You know how she is.”
Betsy nodded in agreement. “We can’t risk her stealing them. Worse, her
dumb ass son Teddy would probably wash our designer jackets
and—ugh—iron them like peasant clothes.”
Clarisse’s jaw dropped. “Wait—why am I suddenly the designated bag babysitter?”
Betsy smirked, tapping Clarisse’s nose playfully.
“Tell Drew to call me. We’ll chat. Bye, girl!”
Before Clarisse could protest, the two women vanished down the stairs,
leaving her standing in the dimly lit hallway, arms overflowing with expensive shopping bags.
She stared at them, then at her phone, then back at the bags.
“The hell is wrong with those bitches?” she muttered.
“I don’t even know them, and now I’m their personal storage unit?”
With zero hesitation, she strutted to the hallway trash can
and dumped the bags inside.
Dusting off her hands, she fished out another cupcake from her purse, took a bite, and scowled.
“The nerve,” she grumbled. “And what was with that number thing?
So Drew can call her? For what?”
She stomped toward Drew’s apartment
and shoved the door open, mid-bite.
Out of nowhere, a book came flying at her head.
She barely ducked in time.
“What the—DREW?!”
Drew wasn’t just mad—he was seething. His apartment was a mess;
clothes were strewn everywhere, pillows knocked over,
and an overturned chair lay in the middle of the floor.
He grabbed a baseball bat, pointing it at her.
Clarisse instinctively crouched. “WHAT THE HELL DREW?!”
Drew was practically hyperventilating.
“Clarisse, are you blind? Did you not see—”
He pointed furiously at the window.
Clarisse peeked out and saw nothing but the streetlights
flickering below. She turned back, unimpressed.
“See what? The ghost of your sanity leaving your mortal body?
Your place all fucked up? So glad I hadn’t moved in here yet…well yet…”
Drew groaned, rubbing his face.
“Clarisse, I’m so fucking mad I could burn this whole building down.”
Clarisse sat at the couch, dusted it a little bit and with her pinky
threw Drew’s underwear that’s blinking on top of the couch to the floor.
Calmly she unwrapped another cupcake.
“Okay, but maybe don’t?” She took a careful bite. “Why are we burning things now?”
Drew threw his hands in the air.
“Because I just saw that perverted bastard Fuck turd in SUIT!
CARRYING TEDDY UP TO HIS APARTMENT—WITH BOTH HANDS ON HIS ASS.”
Clarisse choked on her cupcake. “Fuck turd? You mean the hot guy in designer glam?”
Drew paced, running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah that fucker. I swear to god, Clarisse, if I ever see that bastard again, I’ll—”
Drew slam his body at the couch, his head lands on Clarisse’s lap.
Clarisse, stared at him. She starts to twirl his hair around her cupcake
scented finger “You are ridiculously jealous right now.”
Drew whirled around. “I AM NOT JEALOUS.”
Clarisse tilted her head. “Then why are you gripping that
bat like you’re about to beat the shit out of a piñata? And your
scream, did you heard your voice??”
Drew exhaled sharply, his head still in Clarisse’s lap.
She sighed, stroking his hair.
He was still fuming, but his breathing slowed slightly.
Clarisse stared at her last cupcake, hesitated,
then sighed. She placed it in his hand. “Here.”
Drew frowned. “What is this?”
“A cupcake. Eat it. It will calm you down.”
Drew looked up at her, confusion in his eyes.
Clarisse swallowed hard, her fingers still in his hair.
“Drew… I haven’t been honest with you.”
Drew sat up slightly. “About?” bites on the cupcake.
Clarisse’s throat tightened.
“Something happened… between me and my—”
Drew cut her off. “Your chemistry professor?”
She nodded. “And James. You know, the football guy.”
Drew’s eyes narrowed. “James?”
Clarisse sighed. “And his brother, Mateo.”
Drew shot up. “HIS BROTHER?!”
Clarisse held up a finger. “Just hear me out—there’s no need
go full drama, now- about his teammates…”
“Clarisse,” Drew deadpanned.
“Did you fuck the entire football team?”
She pouted. “Not the whole team. Do you think I’m slutty?”
Drew groaned, rubbing his temples.
“Clarisse, how many guys are you screwing besides me?”
Clarisse leaned back, thinking. “Not many.”
Drew crossed his arms. “Define ‘not many.’”
Clarisse inhaled deeply. “Eighteen.”
Drew stood up. “WHAT—”
But before he could react, he heard the engine.
Cliff’s limousine starts up. Drew peered down.
The fucking ass grabber is leaving.
Drew bolted out of the apartment.
“Fucking Fuck turd in suit” Clarisse got distracted
between Drew bolting out and the half eaten
cupcake thrown at the floor. She hesitates, checks that she’s not
online. Sighed, stared at the cupcake. She reached down
and in one bite, swallowed everything.
She lean back on the couch. Her hand on her belly.
She NEED to tell Drew.
