Things went by for the next couple of weeks smoothly and mostly uneventfully. Alex and I exchanged pleasantries and light conversation when we happened to see each other, but she seemed to be very busy with practices for most of the day and wiped out as soon as she got home. What happened that night had made me even more nervous around her, so I’ve taken to mostly doing work in my own room when she’s around.

One quirk I noticed of Alex’s was that she seemed to leave her dirty clothes strewn around wherever. At first it annoyed me, I like to keep this place clean, but as I thought about it, it at least made sense. This was her first time living on her own, she must be used to her mother cleaning up after her.

Well, I’m not her mother, she can get the hint when I don’t bother to clean up any of her things for her, I thought to myself, moving a ripe old t-shirt from my spot on the couch. I wonder when she takes these off ….

I recovered from that thought and tried to watch tv, but I couldn’t get my mind off the smell, Alex’s smell, that was seemingly everywhere. Retreating to my own room and closing the door, it was a little more tolerable. “I feel like a prisoner in my own apartment”, I thought out loud, but quickly realized how silly it was to admit defeat because of a younger girl’s dirty clothes. I just needed to talk to her tonight and hint around at it.

Alex came back late that night, still wearing a headband and her gym shorts.

“Oh hey, did you need dinner? There’s some extra-“

“No I’m fine; I ate earlier and just finished working out. You know its not good to eat after 7pm, I’ll get fat!” she said with complete earnestness while reaching for the pitcher of water. The slight peak I could get of her toned abs on the bottom of her probably-too-small shirt made me think she could splurge just this once, but whatever.

Alex chugged the water and plopped herself down on the couch with a heavy creak that I could feel on the other end, seemingly oblivious to any kind of mess around her.

“Hey, so, you said you haven’t lived anywhere like this before. Where did you live, with your parents?” I asked trying to seem as natural as possible.

“Ah, yeah, with my dad. Dad raised me on his own since I was really little. My mom wasn’t really fit for raising a child…”

“Oh, I-I’m sorry for bringing it up…”

“No it’s alright,” she perked up, “I wouldn’t want it any other way! I love my dad! Heh, it’s probably the reason I’m such a tomboy though. I can’t say I learned much about cleaning or sewing or whatever girly home-ec stuff!” she giggled.

“T-that’s ok. You’ll learn it’s really no problem, I’ve been doing that kind of stuff for years now…” I piped up.

“Really? That’s great! Joe’s gonna be my maid!” Alex exclaimed, grabbing me in another half-hug half-wrestling hold.

“Wllnotrllyamaid” I was muffled by her dense, wet armpit that my head was hopelessly wedged into. The sour, thick scent of perspiration was so strong here that combined with the force of her hold I found myself getting dizzy. Thankfully she let up before I passed out.

I was still recovering and didn’t have enough energy to speak up when she slapped me playfully on the back and pranced back to her room, shimmying out of her tight gym shorts and leaving them right outside her door before saying “Good Night!”. She really must have been raised by just a man.

I felt bad for Alex. She must really have no clue on either how or why people do the laundry. I’m sure her poor father worked himself to death trying to keep up with her…

So just this once, I would do it for her, and then when she saw the nice pile of clean clothes upon getting home, she would be grateful and do it for herself from then on. It made sense, sure it did. And more than anything I need to clear the air in this place.

I got the biggest bin and began the task of going around the whole apartment picking up the strewn around dirty garments. Endless shirts and shorts, sweatbands, even a few pairs of panties that I debated on picking up before deciding it was necessary and threw them in the bin as fast as possible. But the worst were the socks, and endless number of socks. They were worn down, dingy, and some were still inexplicably wet.

By the time all the clothes I could find were in the hamper, it was entirely full with lots to spare sticking out of the top. I struggled to lift it, How could clothes be this heavy?

But I did manage it and began descending the apartment complex. Over 2 weeks of this girl’s putrid clothes all in one bin, being carried by me right under my nose. It was impossible to ignore, but I pressed on as best I could.

The smell’s effect, I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s so overwhelming, but not like rotting garbage or excrement or anything else with a classically “bad” odor. No, if you were exposed to something like that you’d just puke. Alex’s smell didn’t make me nauseous; it made my head feel funny. Like I was under the effect of some narcotic gas. Is this thing getting heavie-

I fell. Almost at the washing machine and my muscles gave out, dropping the bin with its contents spilling out onto the cold floor. In a haze I rushed over to put them back in, but…I passed out.