The Boyfriend League by Rachel Hawthorne

most of the underwear is boxers or briefs. Definitely very little…lace.”
    I looked over at him. “Because you’ve got three brothers. No sisters?”
    â€œNo sisters. I’m discovering it’s way different living with girls in the house.”
    â€œIt’s different having another guy in the house, too. I’m not sure Dad even comes into the laundry room unless one of the machines isn’t working. Otherwise, Mom does his laundry.”
    Could we have a more boring conversation? I was beginning to understand why Tiffany fixated on orphans as a topic. It ensured she didn’t spend time talking laundry. That was worse than discussing the weather.
    â€œSorry about leaving the clothes in the dryer. I didn’t realize you’d need to do laundry so soon.” As a courtesy I started to clean the lint filter.
    â€œI probably should have said something. I always wash my uniform before a game.”
    I stopped what I was doing and looked at him.
    He shifted his stance, as though suddenly very uncomfortable with his confession.
    â€œBallplayers have pregame rituals. That’s mine. Washing my uniform,” he explained.
    â€œWhat do you do when you have a double header?”
    His cheeks turned red. “Wash it twice.”
    â€œDo you wash and dry it, then wash and dry it again, or do you wash it twice, dry it once?”
    â€œLook, I’m not obsessive-compulsive like some guys. I just like to go to the game in a uniform that’s as fresh as it can be.”
    Which wasn’t really an answer to my question, but I let it slide. “Okay, sure. I understand.” Although I didn’t really.
    He gave a brisk nod, and I knew even before he spoke that a change in topic was coming.
    â€œIt was really nice of your parents to make their house available. I know it’s not easy having company all the time. I’m really trying not to get in the way.”
    I waved that off. “Hey, we wanted you here. No way would we consider you in the way.”
    â€œStill, I know it has to create some stress, a little fissure in the family routine.”
    â€œFamily routine? Please. We have no routine, other than Mom and Dad working all day, Tiffany doing whatever, and me doing this and that.”
    Putting his hands behind him, he lifted himself up on the washing machine, while I put the lint filter back into place and tried to decide if I should go ahead and start folding my clothes. No, that would mean making each piece of underwear visible and available for inspection. That was a little too personal.
    Really I had no reason to stay.
    â€œSo what is this and that?” he asked, giving me a reason. “I mean, what do you do all day?”
    â€œIf I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
    He laughed. “So, what, like it’s all a big secret?”
    â€œNot really. I just always wanted to use that line.”
    â€œSo what do you do?”
    â€œWell, I have my own personal summer reading program. I have to read three books a week. Right now I’m reading Marley and Me .”
    â€œI read it. It’s good.”
    â€œIt’s going to make me cry, though, isn’t it?”
    â€œProbably.”
    He seemed amused by that prospect.
    â€œSo you just read all day?” he prodded.
    â€œI work on my column for the newspaper.”
    Now he seemed impressed. “You write a column for the newspaper? You mean the school paper?”
    â€œWell, I do write for the school paper. I’m actually going to be editor next year, but I also write a column for the local paper. Before you think it’s a big deal, you should know the editor is always desperate for filler pieces.”
    â€œBut you get a byline and everything?”
    I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. “Yeah, I get a byline and everything. Thursday morning edition. Weekdays are usually slow days, and I think that’s when he’s most desperate for