The Kissing Prank

➳ just a sad song

                C H A P T E R  5

                j  u  s  t   a   s  a d   s  o  n  g

        "I don't know what her problem is," Chloe says for the up most time. "She looked like she saw us having sex or something." 

I snort, almost spilling my third hot chocolate of the day on my knit sweater. My eyes shoot towards Chloe's brown ones, stunned by that. She takes my look with stride, albeit she is turning a darker shade of pink in the cheeks. "What? It isn't like we had sex!" She then adds in quietly. "Or will any time soon. . ."

From that I push her shoulder, catching her in the mist of trying to mess with me. She definitely is the hormonal teenage boy in this friendship, certainly not me.

"You are disturbing," I say, grinning in admiration down at her.

Most of the girls I hung around (Emily, to be exact) never had dirty humor. Sure, they might be funny, but not even close to Chloe. I know it has something to do with her mom being a well known Las Vegas comedian, but still, her wit is great. 

Chloe flips her hair dramatically. "I am, and don't forget it."

"How can I forget a girl that hiccups when laughing? That is impossible." 

A rough blow to the abdomen makes me lunge forward, my cup of chocolate surely a goner. It hits the cement with a splash, some of the drink splattering on my shoes. I only knew that because I am hitched over, gripping my stomach in pain. 

Chloe giggles like she did not just hit me. "Well, looks like someone needs to hit the gym."

I scowl up at her, but can't keep the expression solid. She looks too darn nice in my jacket for me to be annoyed or upset. "You're lucky you're cute."

I stand straight up, fixing my composure. I thrash my feet one by one, getting as many drips I could towards Chloe's white jeans. My revenge was a complete fail, until one droplet fell on the middle of her thigh.

Chloe shrugs off my childish behaviour, looking at me seriously. "Do you ever say that to Emily? Compliment her, that is."

I shrug. "No, not really."

She only shakes her head, eyes streaming back towards the sidewalk.

It is reaching well over ten o'clock, and we just finished up eating dinner at a McDonalds. I have not been to one in forever, and when I told Chloe that my mom hates it, along with Emily, she urged me to try it out after almost five years of not eating anything from there. We bought a bundle of nuggets, and Emily would be so disappointed that I ate nearly fifteen of those chicken concoctions. 

"Excuse me, guys." A voice of a man stops us in our tracks. The older man is sitting on a bus bench, an easel in front of him, and a Sharpee marker gripped in his hand. "Would the lovely couple like a drawing?

My mouth opens to sheepishly state Chloe and I were not a couple, but Chloe stops me with her hand wrapping around my torso. She grips the area where she hit me, and makes me yelp. 

"Yeah, we would love that."

I give her a skeptical look. She seems like she has motive for this, but you know what, most street artists are awesome anyways. When I went to the Jersey Shore with Emily, we got tons of drawings done. 

The artist stands up, motioning us to take a seat on the bus bench. Unlike me, Chloe plops down with no worries in world--no worries about how much bacteria is planted on those steel benches. However, the persuasion through a mere glimpse towards me got me to sit beside her, a good foot away from her. The man gets in place, too, and stares between the two of us for a good few minutes before shaking his head.