Hyemi unceremoniously dumps her clothes into an available washer, loads in her detergent and money, and sits down to wait for her clothes to clean. On a Friday night she was one of the only people at the laundromat, most everyone from her college was at some party- This was her logic behind choosing that day of the week. She smiles at herself, proud of her logic and nodded to herself as she leaned back and pulled out her phone to pass the time.

She looks up when she sees someone across the way taking pictures of themselves, a young woman with cat like eyes and coral lips, posing with her fingers making a “v” and pouted lips. The shutter recording keeps sounding, oblivious to Hyemi's stares. She observes this woman from across the room, and by the looks of the text books abandoned on the seat next to her, she's a college student as well, but she definitely looks like someone who should be out partying.

Entrance by her selfie parade, Hyemi is caught staring, and eye contact is made. Hyemi blushes profusely and looks away; the other girl smiles and waves while letting out a friendly, “Hi!”

Hyemi manages an awkward “Hello-sorry” and is saved from further pleasantries when her washer stops and the woman’s dryer beeps. Hyemi starts putting her wet clothes in a cart and once again, carelessly throws them into an available dryer. As she sits down again, she watches the other girl folding her clothes, meticulously and precisely. When the woman looks up at her panicked, she quickly looks down at her phone again.

The woman inquires out loud, “Did you use the first washer in row?”

Looking up, Hyemi thinks about it and answers, “yes”

“Did you see anything in it when you put your clothes in?” the girl now has a worried look on her face.

“No?” Hyemi answered, after a millisecond of thought, “let me check my dryer.”

Hyemi yanks open the dryer, mid spin, and a half-dry red shirt falls to the floor as her clothes sit on the bottom; still damp but not wet. She picks up the shirt and holds it up to her, it isn't familiar- both the shirt itself and the insignia on the front.

The girl shouts, “my favorite shirt!” while snatching it from her. She examines it and holds it up to herself, it is stained with what looks like laundry detergent. “what laundry detergent do you use?” the girl asked incensed at the splotchy pattern on the shirt.

After uttering a few syllables of unintelligible nonsense Hyemi answered back, “I'msososorry my detergent does that sometimes! I'm so so sorry I will wash it for you again.”

“Its fine” the woman who was clearly not fine said, “I can do it myself”

“I insist, I'm so sorry” she said for the millionth time.

The girl calmed down and relinquished the shirt. Her phone beeped at her and she start, as she took her laundry basket filled with clothes, and stared walking away. She was through the door, shouting behind her, “ I'LL SEE YOU NEXT WEEK SAME TIME WITH MY SHIRT!” and zoomed away in her car.

Hyemi held up the damp shirt, noticing the symbol on the front, before tossing it back in the dryer and restarting the timer. She sat, mystified at the girl who left- without even getting her contact information- her favorite shirt in the hand of a shirt ruining stranger. Hyemi sat pondering this encounter until her clothes were folded. The red shirt with laundry detergent on it neatly folded on top.

When she got home she decided to wash it by hand, to prevent the detergent from leaving marks. After a bit of elbow grease, she finally got the soap out, neatly hanging it on a hanger to dry in her bathroom doorway. She left it hanging there until curiosity got the best of her and she searched the name on the design when she hit a homework lull.

Typing into Google: “The High Priestess” she was bombarded with tarot cards and different meanings. One thing a few websites had in particular was about destiny. She was strangely intrigued by the decoding and jargon that went along with tarot cards. Hyemi wasn’t too sure if she believed in fortune telling or destiny. She holds as much stock in tarot cards as she does in a magic eight ball- but for some reason she was engrossed.

Days go by slowly if you are waiting, Hyemi decides. Friday night rolled around, and it was like she was waiting for date night, with how her heart felt. What did she just think? That couldn't be right.

She walked into the laundromat cautiously and looked around. No mystery tarot girl. She sighed, tucking the shirt into her messenger bag and started on the routine of dumping everything into the washer: detergent, clothes, money. She sat down and zoned out on her phone until she felt the presence of someone else in the room and looked up absentmindedly. She automatically forgot any of the witty one-liners she imagined saying and instead stuttered “I-I'm have your shirt” Cheeks burning with embarrassment she looked down at the shoes of the girl in front of her.

The girl giggled and her eyes scrunched up into lovely crescents as she sat down in the seat next to Hyemi's bag and offered her hand and the words“I knew you'd be here.”

Hyemi assumed she was asking for her shirt so she handed her the shirt out of her bag, draping it over Kyungri's outstretched hand. Too late did she realize she wanted to shake hands before Kyungri burst out into more giggles. Hyemi belatedly held out her hand and the girl grabbed it with both of her own, holding it more than a handshake. Hyemi was wordless.

“You're so cute! I'm Kyungri,” Kyungri bubbled.

“You're so beautiful,” Hyemi muttered before she could stop herself. Did she really just say that? “Um. I'm Hyemi”

Kyungri's eyes sparkled and her Cheshire cat grin made Hyemi's heart skip a beat. Hyemi was able to recover with a few hesitant words. Kyungri was busy inspecting her shirt, giving it a once over with a smile before asking Hyemi “Do you know what this image is?”

“The High Priestess?”

“Do you know what it stands for?”

“Um, destiny or something like that?”

Kyungri smiled before answering, “Its about signs. Your intuition is one of the things you should always listen to.”

Hyemi looked at her as Kyungri grabbed her discarded phone and punched a number into it, while music abruptly played in Kyungri's jacket pocket.

“There! You have my number and I have yours! I'll call you!” Kyungri cutely explained before looking at the clock on the laundromat wall and distractedly started towards the door.

“Your shirt!” Hyemi called after her before the door shut.

Kyungri turned around and called out a “You keep it- for now!”as she smiled the door shut and Hyemi was left once again to hold up the shirt in front of her, confused, her thoughts full of this free spirited woman, Kyungri.