Page 15 of Last First Kiss
“No, we haven’t talked about all that.” Alejandra laughs.
“I’m surprised Lala didn’t ask already,” Valeria says.
“Yeah, well, she was probably too happy to think about it all. I’m sure the questions are coming. So we should probably figure something out.” Alejandra looks toward me with a sheepish grin.
I nod, excited to talk to her about “us,” even if it’sfake. For the longest time, being with her, calling her mine, was all I ever wanted. And now, even though it’s pretend, the thought still sends a flutter spiraling through my chest.
I’m usually able to suppress and ignore these emotions, but I’m feeling everything one hundred times over lately. Thankfully, my phone buzzes, and it distracts me.
It’s a message from Valeria. I look up at her, and she gives me a small, concerned smile.
Valeria 9:00 a.m.:
do you want to talk about it?
Clara 9:00 a.m.:
maybe later? We can go get coffee once everyone leaves
Valeria 9:00 a.m.:
ok
I lean into Valeria, who’s still standing next to me, and she wraps an arm around me and hugs me a little tighter than she usually does, something I desperately need in this moment.
Thankfully, we move past the whole fake-relationship-with-Alejandra conversation and eat. Then we watch a true crime docuseries Lily’s been begging us to start, and finally finish the 2,500-piece puzzle we’ve been working on for weeks.
By the time everyone leaves, it’s around 4 p.m., and all I want to do is lie in bed and rot as I mindlessly scroll through social media. Anything to avoid thinking about my feelings, my fake relationship, or the fact that some of the most important people in my life seem to think Alejandra and I should be dating for real.
“Ready to go?” Valeria asks as we finish loading the dishwasher.
“Yeah,” I sigh and grab my wallet from the table by the front door.
“Where are you two heading?” Alejandra asks from the couch, where she’s scrolling through our sea of streaming services.
“Getting coffee,” I say quickly.
Alejandra glances at her phone. “This late?” She lifts an eyebrow.
“It’s notthatlate,” Valeria says. Even though it is. Alejandra knows better than anyone that I never drink coffee past 2 p.m., or I struggle to fall asleep.
“You know Clara won’t?—”
“I love you. Talk to you later! Bye,” Valeria shouts, cutting Alejandra off as she pushes us out the door.
“Smooth.”
“I’m sorry,” she laughs. “I didn’t have an answer for whatever she was going to say next.”
Valeria and I start walking toward the coffee shop near my house in silence. I know she’s probably waiting for me to start the conversation, but I don’t know how. I’m still wrapping my head around it all, even though it’s been a few days.
Valeria finally breaks and asks, “So, you want to tell me how the hell you got roped into this?”
I inhale slowly. “I don’t even know.” I take a few more seconds to gather my thoughts before speaking again. “I know I should have fought her harder when she brought it up, but I didn’t know how. Scratch that, I didn’twantto. My mouth was not paying attention to my brain. And before I knew it, I had agreed. After that, all I could think about was how maybe this could help me move on.” I run a hand through my hair.
I sound so naive.
“Help you move on?” Valeria echoes. “I don’t understand.”
