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I am supposed to be the calm one. I’ve kissed plenty of women. This wasn’t going to be a big deal for me. But shit, I didn’t think I would kiss her tonight and I was totally unprepared for when she… She kissedme,I think.

I’m picking up our food off the floor and scanning the room for cameras so I can potentially ask for playback footage when I hear Clara call from the entrance.

“Ready?” she asks, throwing her long trench coat on and fastening a page-boy hat to her head. As I approach, she’s looking at her feet. Then my feet, the plant next to me, the art over my shoulder. Everywhere but my face.

“Um, yeah. Let’s go.”

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The walk back to my place has, so far, been filled with typical city noises but no conversation. Walking under street lamps, I take advantage of the intermittent low-light and sneak glances at her. Her posture is so straight that she could be smuggling a three-metre ruler down the seam of her coat. Whatever thoughts are running through her head right now have her presenting this more rigid, uptight version of herself.

Which leads me to believe that our kiss freaked her out.

I’d perhaps feel more guilty about that if I’d kissed her and not the other way around.

Because she definitely kissed me, right? I really should have asked Laurence for the security tapes before we left.

Fluffy snow begins falling a few minutes away from my place. It’s not the kind that sticks and stays for long but the snowglobe type that is beautiful to watch. I want to ask Clara if she remembers how excited she used to get for the first snow. Whether she realised that I’d always build my snowmen in the front yard so if she drove past with her parents, she’d see it. How much effort I put into them, hoping to impress her.

When we arrived at my building, it momentarily felt like the worst was over—but I was wrong. The lobby door shut and we were left in total silence. Making it near painful. But what would I even say? I try the first thing I can think of.

“I got a little bit of everything,” I say softly as the elevator doors close.

“Huh?” The corner of her lip juts out.

“Sushi. I got, um, a variety.”

“Oh, great.”

“Do you have… a favourite kind?” I ask.

“Of sushi?”

“Yeah. I like salmon and avocado the best.”

“I like mostly everything. Just not, uh… yam.”

“Right.”

Twenty-one seconds later—yes, I counted—the doors open to my floor.

Clara follows closely behind me towards my apartment and we’re greeted by Bagel—who’s probably only interested in us for the raw fish we’ve brought home.

“Don’t let his friendliness fool you.” I scratch the back of my neck after removing my coat and hanging it up. “He’s after our food.”

Clara hangs her coat up next to mine then slides off her ankle boots. She’s wearing white socks with small strawberries on them.

“Those are cute.” I point to her feet, stuck looking at the ground between us. This awkwardness is next level torture.

She steps closer until her socks are nearly touching the tip of my tights. I don’t look up. Can’t yet.

“I think we should kiss some more,” Clara says this so confidently, so concisely, I feel like I missed the rationale.

I slowly move my eyes to her face, letting myself take in her body along the way. “Okay… for practice or?”

“Science.” Her nose crinkles in the mischievous way it did when we were kids getting into trouble. This, certainly, is trouble.

“You want to kiss me for science, Teens?” I have to laugh. Just a little.