“Again, I’m so sorry for the late notice. Mom didn’t start mixing the batter yet, did she?” Even though her sister couldn’t see her face through the phone, Amara hoped that the regret in her voice would be conveyed all the same.

A tired sigh from the other side told her that her delicacy was unneeded. “No. You said you were going to be here at 7, but since that meant you wouldn’t start driving here until 7:20,” Amara winced but didn’t refute it, “we didn’t start yet.” Another sigh echoed from the other line, but this time, it seemed more sarcastic than anything. “Don’t worry about it though. I know you lovebirds were probably losing track of time, and- ow!” An indistinguishable conversation came from the other side, and based on the tone, Amara suspected that it was her little sister receiving a much-needed scolding. As the scolding continued, she tucked her phone in the crook of her shoulder as she rearranged the plates from the drying rack.

             Her sister’s voice returned with a grumble. “Where’s Maxie?” She all but pouted.

Amara’s hold on a plate almost slipped. “Hm?”

“Mom bought some chocolate ice cream for him, so maybe he can come pick it up,” her sister elaborated.

“He’s coming.”

“He’s not home yet?” Her sister borderline exclaimed.

Amara felt her eyebrow twitch. She readjusted her precarious hold on the plate before clarifying, “That’s what ‘he’s coming’ entails, Edie.”

“I’m just asking. And you guys say that I’m moody,” Edie huffed from the other side, but dutifully relayed the information to their mom. In the brief moment of silence, Amara tucked the last plate away and surveyed the rest of the kitchen. Within an hour, every dirty dish or fleck of dust had been taken care of, more than she had done for the place since they moved here months ago. Still, Amara found herself frowning.

“So,” Edie’s voice returned, “how’s Maxie?”

Amara pushed herself off the counter. “Is everything you ask me going to be about him?” She entered the bedroom. Despite being at least two times larger than the kitchen, the space was uncomfortably cramped: the queen-sized bed, though relatively neat, was flanked by her work desk on the right and piles of discarded clothing on the left. Upon seeing the latter, Amara rolled her eyes as she bent down to pick them up. “I hope you’ve been as invested in studying for your midterms as you are my love life.”

“I’ve done enough studying!” Edie defended.

Amara scoffed, “What did you do to study today, then?”

An expected silence came from the other side. “Midterms are a joke anyway,” Edie muttered. “But either way, it is my legal duty to know about your love life, so spill it!”

“I’m hanging up,” Amara shifted the clothing to her left hand before removing the phone from her shoulder.

             She hovered her finger over the end call button for a second as her sister’s pleading came through. “I’m joking, I’m joking!” It was tempting to end the call anyway, but it would have been more annoying to deal with the resulting spam texts she’d have to deal with. “But come on, I haven’t seen him in weeks. Does he still use that stuffy-buffy cologne?”

             Stuffy-buffy cologne. Amara cracked a smile. “No, he switched to an odorless brand. Said the smell of the last one wasn’t up to the standard of his public reputation,” she tried to make air quotes, but dropped one of the shirts on accident. She glared at it but considering that picking it up would probably cause her to drop something else, she decided to cut her losses by leaving it behind.

“Ugh, that’s almost worse. He’s becoming basic like you.” Amara didn’t deign the comment with a response, hurling the clothes into the washer instead. “Why don’t you guys at least use something light, like, I don’t know. Apples? Mangoes?” The more Edie listed off different scents, the more Amara realized she was probably just hungry. The fruit-like fragrance of the laundry was starting to make her hungry as well.

“Aren’t you guys going to eat soon?” Amara questioned. She reentered the bedroom and once again glared at the rebellious button-up on the ground. Stupid thing making her walk here twice.

“Yeah, but now that you’re not coming, I’m not really motivated, y’know,” despite the joking tone, there was an underlying somberness in her voice. A few seconds passed before you continued, “…Are you sure you can’t come? I’ll let you get first dibs on biscuits.”

Amara lifted the shirt from the floor. A faint floral scent wafted to her nose.

“Amara?” Her sister called out.

“I’ll-” she coughed to smoothen her voice. “I’ll stop by.”

“Wait, really!” Amara cringed at the sudden increase in volume, moving the phone a little further from her ear.

“No point in cancelling just because Max isn’t here yet,” Amara reasoned, leaving the bedroom once more. “I’m still dressed from work, so might as well.”

“Yes!” Edie cheered before her voice quietened once more, “Mom, Amara said she’s….” Amara let the conversation play out in the background when she entered the bathroom. She eyed the white dress shirt for a moment before tossing it with the rest of the clothes and slamming the lid of the washer.

She remembered buying it for him during one of their dates last year, back when she entertained his stupid little rants about public reputation. What hogwash.

She stared for a second as the water filled the machine. With all the dark clothes in there, that shirt would probably be ruined by the end of the wash. Wasn’t like she intended to see him in it again.

“…ra. Hello? Amara, are you there?” Edie’s voice tricked into her mind.

“Yeah? You say something?” She set the phone back into the crook of her shoulder.

“I heard a thud. Are you okay?”

“Mhm. Just doing laundry.” Before Edie could follow up, the jingle of the keys echoed from the apartment entrance. “Max’s here. I’ll see you later.” Amara ended the call before she could get a reply.

She slipped into her shoes when the door opened. “I’m home!” A singsong voice called out, only to be met with silence.

Amara lifted her bag from the table as footsteps approached from behind. “Hello? Amy?” The previous cheer was replaced by confusion.

Amara finally decided to turn around with irritation on her face. Met with the harsh stare, the man before her averted his eyes and fiddled with his loosened tie. “Is it because I’m a little late? Sorry. The traffic was terrible since they’re fixing that dumb old road again and… where are you going?” Annoyance crept into his voice as Amara simply walked past him.

“Dinner.” She responded when she got to the door. Before she let it close behind her, she faced him one more time.

“You left some lipstick on your collar,” she snapped. The slam of the door followed behind her.