Yours Musically

19. The Avocado Toast Trade

Chapter Nineteen - The Avocado Toast Trade

The purple hearts floating upwards out of the frame looked nice. Now they were slowly transforming into circles and before I knew it, it was a round symmetrical pattern of multicoloured aces. And it was all spinning.

Hmm! It looks nice.

And suddenly, the patterns disappeared and I was on the edge of a cliff.

I looked down at my sandals. Then, for some deranged reason, I jumped.

My eyes snapped opened and I looked around frantically, still feeling the jittery aftershocks of that jump in the pit of my stomach.

Beside me, my enemy was watching me with raised brows before he shook his head to himself and looked ahead at the road. He was driving. I was in his car. My head turned sideways to find my house coming into view.

"How long was I out?"

"Five minutes." He pulled up in front of my house, averting his eyes to me. "A very good and calm five minutes."

"We were talking about rockets and then I..." I trailed off pensively.

"You were talking about rockets."

I sat up straighter in my seat.

"As I was saying," I started, earning a sigh from him. "They should be available to everyone like cars and motorcycles. Why do I have to become an astronaut to go to space? What if I don't wanna study all that and still wanna go to space? That's not fair. Don't you agree?"

"Actually, you—" he started but stopped himself for some reason as if thinking better of it.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing. Your house is here."

"So?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose before motioning towards my house with a jerk of his hand. "So go."

"Wait! What happened to Baby Shark? Did you turn it off?" I spat in disbelief, pointing to the radio.

"I was never playing it. It was just you singing at the top of your lungs." He sneered.

With a little frown, I started bobbing my head to the tune of Baby Shark playing in my head. Then I looked down at my hands and my clothes.

"Matt?"

After about five seconds, he asked in a monotone, "what now?"

"Why are my clothes wet?"

He glared at me.

"Wait." I blinked. "Your clothes are wet, too. What happened? Did we...did we do something?"

"Define something."

"Something..." I cleared my throat and leaned over to him to whisper, "we shouldn't have done."

He remained silent, looking on the verge of losing his shit. Then something shifted in his eyes as he considered me for a moment and leaned in with sudden interest.

"You don't remember?"

"No." I gasped slightly. "What happened?"

"Then I shouldn't tell you."

"Oh no!" My jaw dropped. "I need to know."

"What do you think could make our clothes wet?" He raised a suggestive brow and I started to panic.

I licked my lips. "I don't know."

"Why don't you think about it? Really reflect on it while you..." He leaned over me to push my door open before unbuckling my seatbelt. "...walk up to your house."