erica young

There are no shortcuts to any place worth going

[theyoungerica]

jenkins and young

[ryan-jenkins]

Ryan grinned boyishly. “Are you sure about that? I think it was a seeeecret,” he teased, leaning an elbow against the washing machine and wiggling his eyebrows as though Erica was hiding something and Ryan knew it, even though Ryan knew full well that Erica had most likely not hidden anything in her muttered response. It was, after all, the early hours of the morning: the time of day in which Ryan thought everything he did was absolutely hilarious. 

He half-walked-half-danced back to the chairs and spun one around so that he was sitting on it backwards, leaning his chin against the chair back. “Psst,” he whispered.”What’s the secret? I promise I won’t tell.”

[theyoungerica]

“Secret?” She looked at him, smiling in amusement and confusion. How could he have concluded that her dismissed muttering could hold a secret? “I am very sure about that,” Erica nodded once, solidifying her reassurance. Though, interpreted through his eyebrow waggling, Ryan wasn’t going to take something so ordinary for an answer. Even his little dance back to the chairs suggested that the night had devoured him and turned him mad. Well, madder.

Erica moved to the chair behind him, kneeling on the seat but resting her elbow on the chair’s back. She made a look of contemplation, wondering whether to tell him her ‘big secret’ despite him promising not to tell anyone at all. “…Are you sure you won’t tell?” she questioned. “This could probably change the whole of mankind. It’s not for the faint of heart.”

[theyoungerica]

jenkins and young

[ryan-jenkins]

"That’s the spirit!" Ryan called triumphantly from across the room, switching his laundry with one hand and pumping the other in the air. See, mom? Ryan thought, laughing to himself a little. The whole world doesn’t have to be full of organized robot people. ”Disorganization forever!” 

As he continued to load his laundry into the dryer, Ryan started tapping on the machine like it was a drum, humming to himself. It took him a second to realize that Erica was still talking to him. “What?” Ryan said, spinning around. “Sorry, didn’t get that.”

[theyoungerica]

 Erica went along with it, pumping her hand as well and smiling. “Disorganization forever!” she chanted back at him. Okay, maybe not forever. What if she began college that morning with these new habits courtesy of Ryan? Messy dorm, listening to Nirvana, procrastinating laundry… The notion seemed unlikely but anything was plausible with this boy. She shrugged it off. Tonight wasn’t the night for worrying.

When he hadn’t responded immediately, Erica contemplated saying what she said again. But, obviously, he was preoccupied himself. He was tapping his fingers, something she figured all musicians had a tendency of doing. “Never mind,” she smiled, embarrassed. “I- It was nothing important.”

[theyoungerica]

jenkins and young

[ryan-jenkins]

"Well, I promise that if one day we somehow end up at the same Laundromat again, that time I’ll have my record player with me." The idea of showing Erica Nirvana did seem like a good one, but Ryan knew it was unlikely he’d ever get a chance to, so he didn’t think much of it when he made the promise. After all, it wasn’t like he was actually going to lug his record player to the Laundromat every time he came.

He laughed again. “You’d be surprised. Remember how I said I was raised by wolves? My mom went psycho with the laundry- everything had to be color coded and perfectly folded and ironed, it was a nightmare. The fact that you can chill while you wait for your laundry instead of running around making sure the machine doesn’t explode is enough for me,” Ryan explained. He could admit that he was exaggerating a little, but it made for a more interesting story, Ryan reasoned. 

The bell signaling the end of the wash cycle for Ryan’s clothes pinged, (he’d stuffed everything in and picked the quickest cycle) and he stood up. “Only, like, one more hour,” Ryan said triumphantly, pumping one fist in the air.

[theyoungerica]

The chance seemed unlikely, but she hoped for it anyway. It had been so long since Erica was dowsed in such a light-hearted presence it was almost embarrassing. She admired Ryan’s optimism, she decided. Usually, people with overly-positive mindsets often bothered her, not being as rational as she. Ryan was an exception. “Right, it won’t be hard see you then,” she joked, wondering if he was really considering dragging the contraption.

“I remember, it’s kind of hard to forget.” He let him continue retelling the laundry antics of his mother, not exactly seeing the same perspective as he. If only Mom did that. Erica’s mother just chucked all the clothes into the machine without a moment’s thought, and if the whites turned coloured, she simply shrugged it off saying ‘a painted canvas is better than a blank one’. Not if they’re your bras and underwear. “Yeah, well, it’s like two in the morning. Don’t expect any organization from me,” she smiled, shaking her head.

The pinging sound made her jump slightly, unaware of how quick the washing was. She had opted for a longer, more thorough cycle. Unsure of whether to follow his stance or to remain seated, Erica stood up after Ryan did so. “Mine will be a bit longer, I think,” she observed, glancing over at the mint-green washing machine containing her spinning garments.

[theyoungerica]

jenkins and young

[ryan-jenkins]

"Aw, you’re killing me!" Ryan winced teasingly. He did feel a bit of a twinge of disappointment that Erica didn’t share any of his music taste; being someone who tended to judge people based on what kind of music they listened to. "You haven’t lived until you’ve heard Nirvana. Greatest stuff of all time." He would have liked to show Erica some of his favorite songs, but Ryan was a firm believer in playing things for people on vinyl. Even if his friends called him a snob for that. 

He laughed at Erica’s comment about her talent of stressing herself out. Yeah, right. Erica seemed so laid-back. She must have been kidding, Ryan reasoned. “You? Stressed? You are literally the most chill person I’ve spoken to in the past week,” he said, though with a slight touch of confusion. It was true, Ryan didn’t know much about Erica. She definitely knew more about him than he knew about her. But Ryan had been sure that what he’d assumed about her was true. 

[theyoungerica]

Erica hid her face in her hands, trying to suppress the oncoming blush rising to her cheeks. Everyone that Ryan approves of seems to have religiously listened to Nirvana before and here she was: barely listening to the radio and the bubblegum pop it plays. “I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, almost unable to look up at Ryan as if she’s shamed him. When she was able to compose herself, she focused on ‘playing it cool’ in order to remove that embarrassment from his (and her) memory. “Then you’ll have to show me their stuff some time,” Erica said.

She laughed with him despite it being about herself. Sure, at this very moment there was no clue that she cried whenever exams approached and would literally lose contact with her friends when a test came around. But she had to warn Ryan at the very least. “Well, once you see me in exam season you’ll see what I mean. In the meantime, laundry doesn’t really distress me too much, you know? Might explain why you don’t believe me.”

[theyoungerica]

jenkins and young

[ryan-jenkins]

Briefly, Ryan wondered if he really should have told Erica his entire life story just then, but quickly remembered that he would probably never see her again, so who really cared? And Ryan wasn’t exactly in the business of regretting the things he said anyway. Plus, Erica seemed like she found it interesting. Maybe even vaguely entertaining. “It wasn’t half bad. I can’t complain,” he shrugged with an amused smile.

He instantly perked up when Erica asked him about his music. "Oh, you know, the good old stuff. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, some original stuff. I used to be in a band, back in high school. I did guitar and vocals.". Ryan wouldn’t admit it, but he was always waiting for someone to mention music so he could go on about it without looking like it was all he ever talked about. He liked to act like it wasn’t a big deal. “What about you, though? What’s your secret talent?” Admittedly, Ryan was curious. He had said so much about himself, and he felt like all he knew was this girl’s name.

[theyoungerica]

Already Ryan sounded one hundred times more interesting than Erica would ever be. It sounded exaggerated, yes, but it was the truth. She was never the type to go out looking for adventure, like going out to join a band. When it called for it, she would join a few extra circular clubs at school, all for the sake of a better looking résumé. To top it all off, she didn’t have the slightest idea of what was good or bad music.

The names rang a bell but still, they weren’t too familiar anyway. “I think my parents listen to them, or something. I’ve seen their Nirvana stuff around the house. You should make friends with my parents, I bet they’d like you.” Erica couldn’t help but suppress a smile. “I can imagine you in a 2000s band with that long, uncut kind of hair all the boys had. Or did you go for the gelled, spiked up style?” She had to think about her talent, which was sad, yet what was even more pathetic she could not think of a serious one. “I have the amazing talent of stressing over everything at very extreme levels,” Erica said with a slight laugh, though it was the truth.

[theyoungerica]

jenkins and young

[ryan-jenkins]

Ryan paused, an amused expression on his face, trying to think of a funny story to tell her. “Well, I was raised by wolves…” he started, then laughed and waved his hand to show he was kidding. “Close to that, though. Typical kid-of-divorced-parents drama, not nearly as entertaining as the Kardashians. I got to go on vacation a lot, though, and it wasn’t so bad when both my parents always wanted to buy me new guitars. Did I mention I’m an angsty rock star?”

He told the whole story without missing a beat, in an easy, lighthearted tone. In truth, Ryan’s parents’ divorce hadn’t been particularly messy, and it didn’t really make him upset anymore. It had happened when he was eleven, and though he’d been angry at the time, now it was just a normal fact of his life. And like every normal fact of his life, it was something to joke about.

[theyoungerica]

Erica nodded, listening attentively. Her own family life seemed so dull compared to Ryan’s as they never took vacations, saying ‘the biggest adventures are at home.’ Yeah, right. She still wonders which Disney movie they ripped that off from. And they spoiled her for her first three years, no doubt, but when her brother was born, it all pretty much went downhill from there. Now he’s fifteen and has melted into the couch, his eyes glued to his iPad. Erica liked to bet how long he would live with their parents for. I am a terrible sister.

“Hey, the wolves thing was going for you, I would’ve believed you,” she jested, but smiled genuinely nonetheless. “Ah, lucky – I mean, not lucky that your parents divorced but lucky you got to go on vacations and get guitars and stuff. Eleven,” Erica repeated, imagining an eleven year old Ryan with a guitar in his hands, “that’s pretty young. But, no, you did not mention that. What do you play? Do you have a stage name?”

[theyoungerica]

jenkins and young

[ryan-jenkins]

Ryan gasped outrageously, then shook his head and laughed. Erica was funny, and this conversation was a good distraction from the fact that school was starting the next day. It was a shame that he probably would never see her again. After all, Ryan wasn’t going to drive all the way out to the Laundromat all the time when he could just use the campus laundry service. And even if he did, it was unlikely that he’d run into Erica again. 

"I’m so sorry," he said with mock horror once he caught his breath.  He quickly lost the attempt at seriousness, though, unable to control his laughter. "To be excluded from such a loving, functional family… It’s a terrible tragedy. How do you do it?"

[theyoungerica]

She wiped fake tears from the ducts of her eyes. “I don’t like to talk about it,” Erica snivelled. “It just brings back so many memories – I’m sorry – ” Her forehead rested on Ryan’s shoulder (she was certain he wouldn’t mind… hopefully, anyway), adding to her little act of despair and she continued to ugly weep. However, she could not keep up her performance as her crying slowly elevated to laughter. She never claimed to be the best at Drama during school.

Sitting up again and recollecting herself, Erica attempted at some meaningful, serious conversation. “Now you know where I come from – an overly-dramatic-family-made-out-of-silicon – what about you, Ryan? What’s your story?” The chance of seeing him again was slimmer than the space between the bottom of a door and the floor, so she might as well suck some information out of him while she can.

[theyoungerica]

jenkins and young

[ryan-jenkins]

"Sister? I like Khris, you know, the boyfriend? He gives me great fashion tips," Ryan joked, taking off his sweatshirt and tying the sleeves around his shoulders in an attempt to imitate Scott Disick, hoping that his joke make sense considering his lack of knowledge about the show. Hopefully Erica knew just as little as he did so that he wouldn’t look like a complete idiot.

He adopted a vaguely British accent, even though he was pretty sure the Kardashians were in no way British. “The suburban white mom look is in this year, did you know that?” Ryan imitated, then started laughing and put the sweatshirt down next to him. A part of him really did hope Erica was by some crazy coincidence in at the same school as him and maybe even in the same classes. She was funny, funnier than anyone else he’d met here. “Nice to meet you too, Erica. Is that short for something? Kay-rica? Are you secretly a Kardashian?”

[theyoungerica]

Erica laughed, clapping whilst doing so. “I feel like I’m at a real fashion show!” She never learned the name of the boyfriend, but Ryan’s imitation triggered images of a slick haired and overly tanned man from social media and whatnot, and she could formulate a portrait of this ‘Kris’. “Wait, you have to do poses, of course. What kind of Kardashian doesn’t pose?” the blonde added, pretending to be the paparazzi and using her hands to make a clicking camera.

“No, I didn’t know that but thank you, sir, for making my life ten times more fabulous!” Erica praised with acted gratitude. She couldn’t let him know the Kardashians were not British in any way, shape or form after that spectacle, so she let her laughter carry on as normal. Though she wasn’t really a fan of immature guys, Ryan seemed to know when it was enough and it wasn’t being taken too far, which she liked. Even the spontaneous idea of him living around here made her feel light for a second. “Oh yes, but you can’t tell anyone,” she grinned, “I was the one separated at birth because my ass wasn’t the size of a planet.”

[theyoungerica]

jenkins and young

[ryan-jenkins]

Ryan laughed and started tossing his laundry into the machine, not even considering separating whites or delicates. To him, laundry was a sort of game of luck - if something came out wrong, then it must have just been a weird accident. “Oh, it’s so informative. Really quality TV,” Ryan joked with a faux-serious expression. Though Ryan had a minimal knowledge of what happened on reality TV mostly owing to his refusal to watch anything of the category, he still found the whole thing funny.

It didn’t take long to empty his duffel, with how careless he was being. Ryan paid for the soap and dumped it all in, then looked around for somewhere to sit. It only seemed logical to take the seat next to the girl he was talking to and introduce himself. “I feel so rude, asking you for TV recommendations and not even introducing myself. I’m Ryan,” he said, dropping into one of the mint-green chairs.

[theyoungerica]

“Do you have a favorite sister, then? Seeing as it is oh-so-interesting to watch?” If truth be told, Erica only knew of Kim Kardashian due to her never leaving the news and TV screen and the whole North West propaganda (who the hell names their child after a compass?). Either way, she knew if she asked this stranger only a good and amusing answer would come from it and it’s something the girl needed now. The daunting arrival of college was hours away and here she was; conversing with a boy at a Laundromat at two o’clock in the morning.

Erica didn’t even think about exchanging names in this situation. She believed a friendly chat would take place, nothing more. Though it was nice she could put a name to his face instead of referring to Ryan as ‘the stranger’ or ‘the boy’ or ‘the guy’. Ryan, she repeated to herself. He looked like a Ryan. “Well, I am honestly offended, Ryan,” she said with fake insult, but it was apparent she was kidding with a grin like that. “I’m Erica. Nice to meet you.”

[theyoungerica]

jenkins and young

[ryan-jenkins]

Ryan was about to make a joke about the entertainment value in the girl’s laundry when the coin machine deposited five dollars in change all over the floor. “Ah, dammit,” Ryan muttered, kneeling down to pick up his change. In other circumstances he might have been embarrassed, but at two A.M., everything seemed funny. It wasn’t like he’d see this girl again anyway. It seemed impossible that she was going to the same college as him. Everyone he’d met so far was so high-strung, and this girl couldn’t be one of them. Not if she was out at a Laundromat in the middle of the night.

He finished gathering the quarters and headed back to the other side of the Laundromat where he’d dumped his duffel bag, giving the girl a joking thumbs-up and a grin. Maybe she didn’t seem like she was very interested in talking, but Ryan was bored, and, after all, he still hadn’t gotten his chance to make his joke. “So, what’s more interesting, that or the Kardashians? I’m looking for TV recommendations,” Ryan called from across the room.

[theyoungerica]

Erica had to stifle a laugh when the quarters spilled on the floor. Yes, it was perhaps a bit rude but he seemed to be one of those comedic figures anyway, so it wouldn’t exactly hurt, right? “Someone’s got butterfingers,” she commented, smiling. “Need help?” There was no use in the offer, however, as the nameless guy had it covered. It was unlike of Erica to propose help to strangers, anyway, yet dropping things at the crack of dawn was excusable. I mean, we’re both out here in the middle of the night cleaning up our clothes. I shouldn’t be judging anything he’s doing.

She returned his thumbs-up and smile with her own, increasingly enjoying his company. He was light-hearted, Erica gave him that, especially when he asked her about what would be more entertaining (she didn’t know what was more humorous – he was asking her for TV recommendations or what he was exactly asking.) “Kardashians, obviously,” she said as if it were the most apparent thing in the world. “Who wouldn’t want to watch a half and hours’ worth of a family doing nothing but getting boob jobs and being famous for turning up to fashion shows?”  

[theyoungerica]

jenkins and young

[ryan-jenkins]

After exploring the town for about an hour, Ryan had come to three conclusions: first, that the 24-hour McDonald’s had surprisingly terrible coffee; second, that even in the middle of the night, people managed to get pissed if you didn’t follow the speed limit; and third, that if he didn’t do his laundry now, he would have to show up to class in the same clothes he was wearing at that moment. Which didn’t seem like a horrible idea. After all, Ryan had always been something of a procrastinator. But upon a quick “sniff test’ of his shirt, Ryan realized that he probably wouldn’t make any friends if he showed up smelling like this.

Humming to himself, Ryan swung the door to the Laundromat open and unceremoniously plopped his duffel bag of clothes onto the linoleum, still a little high on that awful coffee. It wasn’t until Ryan started putting bills into the change machine that he realized there was a girl in one of the chairs near him, watching her clothes intently. “Howdy,” Ryan said with a grim smile. He couldn’t think of anything more awkward than being alone with someone for an hour and a half and never saying anything to them, so he figured now was as good a time as any.

[theyoungerica]

Erica’s heartbeat slowed. Her initial (and stupid) assumption that this guy would rob her or just cause trouble vanished when he acknowledged her. I mean, there’s still that chance he could be an axe murderer or something. Sociopaths have been known to be intelligent and this could just be a part he’s playing. Then again- When she realised that she had been quiet for too long, her original inkling had to be put aside in favour of manners. Glancing at his face timidly, Erica Young managed to muster: “How-” Realising that mimicking his greeting would probably put him off, she abandoned it midway in favour for a more safe reception, shaking her head slightly. “Er, hi.”

Sometimes she wondered why she even bothered socialising with people. And already her plan for college was tearing away at the seams as Step 1 was ‘don’t look anyone in the eye and/or attempt to make friends.’ It would only throw off her studying. But – it was the sleep deprivation, of course – she somehow wanted this stranger to talk to her. Erica knew she couldn’t rekindle the conversation with anything interesting yet perhaps this boy can. After all, he did talk to her first. Okay, stop thinking about it, shut up and look at your magnificent clothes tumbling.

[theyoungerica]

jenkins and young

The miniscule fissures of dawn filtered through the sky as Erica stepped out of the two-in-the-morning darkness and into the flickering fluorescent lit Laundromat, a sack of smelling clothes hung over her tired shoulder. The place was quaint, she concluded, with its matching mint green washing machines and chairs and linoleum floor. Best of all: there was no one in sight. Thus no one would judge her grey, dull sweatpants and Thai-curry-stained hoodie, in addition to her lazy blonde bun. She picked a machine at random and shoved her clothes in, finding the machine a bit too small – or perhaps her load was a bit more than average – but it managed to all fit. Just. Punching the settings in, and double checking to make sure, Erica sat on one of the seats to watch and listen to the obnoxious rumbling of her washing. I should be asleep. I should be at my dorm now and be sleeping for today. It was recited over and over on the way to the Laundromat, scolding herself for not noticing the stench before. College was to start in hours and here she was: not getting the rest she needed. Her eyes slowly succumbed to her sleep deprivation, flittering open and shut, open and shut, open… and…

Her head jerked up when a noise exerted from the entrance. Tiredly looking over to the door, a blurry sort figure had entered. How long she had napped for, Erica could not say, but it must have been short for her machine was still growling and the sky hadn’t changed. Avoiding eye contact with the other occupier, she fixated her eyes on her toppling clothes, minding her own business.