Free Falling (Book Three: Exposed)

He placed his basket on his hip and he was gone, no other words spoken between us. And that was our weekly exchange. I’d come in, he’d give me his extra quarter if he had to break change, and that was it until the next week.

Shaking my head—at once again, myself—I finished up preparing my washers, then sat at the folding table and got on my laptop. It was only thirty minutes to wash so I didn’t bother making the trip from the laundry room back to my building. There was only one washing facility for all the buildings, and my apartment was pretty much on the other side of the complex. It would take me a good five to ten minutes to get there so there wasn’t a point in going all the way there if only to come back.

I hit up all the usual places on the net. Social media and what not. I didn’t bother with my emails, knowing it was close to Valentine’s Day. There would be a lot of requests coming in the next few days, and I didn’t want to deal with that until I got back to my place.

My thoughts flashed at what I might be asked to do, to wear…

Inadvertently, my fingers went to my hoodie, zipping it up as if it was a security blanket. As if it would cover me from the potential reality that swam within my head.

The telltale buzzer of the washers summoned my thoughts back to the small campus laundry room, and I changed my loads over to dryers. I wasn’t surprised I didn’t see Griffin come back and switch his own things over. I never saw him do the switch. I assumed he was one of those that left his laundry overnight and then dried it in the morning. I probably should start doing that too since it really is late.

My eyes grew heavy as they always did before the dryers could finish. I never needed all the time anyway. So with twenty minutes left on each dryer, I pulled my things out and stuffed them into my hamper. I tossed its sling and my laptop bag over the same shoulder and left the laundry room.

“I bet a lot of money on that game, man.”

I froze as I came upon the corner of the laundry building.

“And what does that have to do with me?”

I didn’t recognize the first voice, but I definitely did the second. That was Griffin. I snuck a look around the edge of the building. Griffin stood there, his laundry basket on his hip, and two black dudes were in front of him. They had their fists together, and the proximity they had to Griffin was really close. Almost like they were trying to intimidate him.

One of the guys cracked his fists, popping large fingers. “I think you know exactly what that means. I bet for you guys to win, kid.”

Griffin’s lips turned up. “Well, I guess it’s good we won then.”

He attempted to pass him, but the small guy put his hand out, stopping him from passing.

Griffin stiffened immediately, turning his shoulder away from the guy he had a good foot of height on. “You don’t want to put your hands on me, man. Now, I suggest you let me pass.”

The little guy lifted his hands as if to say no threat. “We ain’t trying to start nothing. We’re just trying to get to the bottom of this. You see, my friend and I bet a lot of money on the game you ‘won,’ and we’re all but happy with the outcome. We lost, and we lost hard. Y’all should have smoked Stevenson-U with your season so far and their poor stats, yet you only won by four points. We bet you to win by at least ten and that was being safe. Your team should have pummeled them.”

I frowned. I didn’t even know you could bet that way. I shrugged. I didn’t know a lot of things about sports, so whatever, but I still didn’t get why these guys were giving Griffin a hard time.

Griffin remained stone-faced. “Everyone has an off day.”

He attempted to pass the guys again, but the big guy interceded this time, stepping in front of him. “Seems to be a little more than that going on. Perhaps you need to be reminded why you shouldn’t have off days.”

He pushed Griffin’s chest, and my heart leaped. What the hell?

Griffin barely stumbled at the push. In fact, he had his footing back so quickly I didn’t have time to blink. The next thing I knew, he tossed his clothesbasket to the ground and he was stepping up on the guy.

Raven St. Pierre's books