How Kisses Can Lie

Some Kind of Apocalyptic Occurence

"Clara, spit it out." I state firmly, as I struggle to get her to spew out the truth.

"Oh no, haven't you heard? I only swallow." She confidently retorts with a sly grin on her face.

"God you are something else Clara", I roll my eyes, unable to contain my smirk, "What is it about this party that you saw exactly in your vision?" I relentlessly ask her.

She looks around at our surroundings, examining the stripe patterned wallpaper next to us with too much thoughtfulness in her expression to be just wondering about our decorating choices. She looks a little worried, but more like she's battling an inner dilemma. And if you know Clara, you know she is never worried. So if you see her worrying, you better start looking around for meteorites falling onto the earth or some other apocalyptic occurrence.

"I don't want to tell you." She finally decides on disclosing to me, diverging her eyes away from the wallpaper, and now onto the next decorative choice she would pretend to inspect: the rug.

"Why? You're giving me freaking anxiety. You know what they say anxiety can cause? White hair. Is this all part of a master plan to make me look ugly and old so you can look even hotter in comparison?" I say jokingly, wanting to relax her nerves. What was she so tense about?

"Ooh I think I can spot a pesky little one actually, let me just..." She reaches out and attempts to fake-pluck one out before I playfully slap her hand away.

"Clara! C'mon, you know I won't go if you don't tell me. I mean if you're not telling me it means it's probably worse than that time in 6th grade where you had to warn me that Perry the Pervert aka the love of my life didn't love me back. And I don't think I can take much worse." I finish, wiping away an invisible tear as she erupts into a fit of giggles.

When she's back to normal she just looks back up at me and stares me in the eyes with this sympathetic
smile. Now I'm the one who darts my eyes to the ground, to the wallpaper, hell, anywhere. I just really get uncomfortable when people stare deeply into my eyes. To give you an idea of how much I hate it, I would probably rather you stare at my boobs. And god knows how uncomfortable that makes me at school when all the hormonal boys forget that, there is in fact, a person attached to these breasts.

"You're going to meet someone tonight."

My heart nearly jumps out of my chest.

"You mean, a guy?"

"Not just a guy."

"Wait, what? In what sense?" I say, sort of panicked now. I didn't know how I felt about this whole thing. Now I was even more nervous to crash Hailey's party than I was 10 seconds ago, which I really wouldn't have thought was possible considering the initial state of stress seemed pretty hard to outdo.

"I guess you just have to find out." Clara says smiling wider than ever all the way to my front door as I stand there paralyzed, my mouth half open as I watch the front door shut.