“Just cut it out. You don’t have a choice in the matter,” Ms. Pat says impatiently.
Tanya gets up from her seat. Ms. Kim steps in front of her with her arms crossed. “Write me up if you want, I’m not doing this shit,” Tanya says, and steps around Ms. Kim.
“Sit down now, Tanya,” Ms. Kim says.
Tanya ignores her and starts toward the dorms.
“Let her go to her room, she can stay in there for the rest of the weekend,” Ms. Pat tells Ms. Kim.
Tanya waves to us before she disappears into the hallway. Some of the girls laugh but I keep my eye on Amari, hoping her outburst isn’t next. We finally make eye contact. I shake my head, in case she was thinking about it.
“Well, Amari, since you handled that much better than your counterpart, who would you like to replace her?” Ms. Pat asks.
Amari loosens her grip on her chair and her usual smirk spreads across her face.
“Jasmine,” she says without hesitation.
The laundry room is considered “off unit” because we have to pass through the double doors and make a left before the elevator. Usually, the girls who get laundry are really close to their discharge date and are therefore considered low AWOL risk. Amari and I don’t fit that profile, but I definitely won’t be calling attention to it, or making them regret it.
Ms. Kim tells us to wait for her at the double doors while she grabs the laundry room key from the office. Amari bolts to the door and I move quickly to catch up.
“I was this close to going off back there,” she whispers.
“I know. I was willing you not to,” I say.
“Aww, you wanted me to read your mind?” She chuckles.
I stick my tongue out at her.
Ms. Kim calls for us to get in line. In the hallway, I realize that I must only look straight ahead when I’m coming and going from the unit, because I don’t remember seeing the LAUNDRY sign before. A burst of hot air hits us when we walk in. Amari jumps back and onto my toe. I wince.
“Sorry, but it’s hot as hell in here!” she exclaims.
“Language, Amari!” Ms. Kim says.
I look around the room. Washers and dryers line the perimeter of the small space. There’s a big window opposite the door and a table for folding directly underneath it. I lean on the table to take the pressure off my throbbing foot.
“My bad,” Amari says. “You okay, Jasmine?”
I nod, wiggling my foot in my shoe to ease the pain.
Ms. Kim fiddles with the thermostat on the wall. “Okay, it should cool down soon. You’ve done laundry before, correct?” she asks, quirking a brow.
I assume she’s being sarcastic but tell her yes anyway.
Ms. Kim looks directly at Amari. “I meant you,” she says.
“I’ve seen it done. Didn’t look that hard.” Amari shrugs.
Ms. Kim seems pleased enough with that answer and reminds us not to leave this room until she comes back. Shelooks at us sternly one last time before she walks out, thankfully leaving the door open.
“Hold up, you’ve never done laundry?” I ask Amari.
“Nope,” she says with a shrug. “I’ll follow your lead.”
I stand there, studying her curiously for a moment.
“Just tell me what to do first, Jas,” she says.