Page 23 of Last First Kiss
“I’m not a slob like you,” I joke. “I just grabbed everything and threw it into your room.”
Clara leans in and kisses my temple. “You’re brilliant.”
“I know.” I smile. Clara playfully rolls her eyes.
I don’t know why I thought pretending to date her would be awkward; even in these small moments, it feels real, effortless. Maybe it’s because we already have such a comfortable physical closeness—hugging, leaning on each other, holding hands—it’s second nature to us.
“Do you need anything, Lala?” Clara asks.
“No, I’m okay, just shut the door please,” Lala says, and we take that as our cue to leave her be.
When we close the door behind us, we both let out an enormous sigh, and nervous laughter bubbles between us. The laughter starts getting louder and higher, and we end up covering each other’s mouths, trying to keep it together, like we used to when we got in trouble with my mom and tried to muffle our giggles so she wouldn’t catch us laughing and worsen our punishment.
“God, that was a little too close for my liking,” I whisper against Clara’s fingers still covering my mouth.
“I know,” Clara says, trying to rein in her laughter. Once she manages to calm down, she says, “Let’s go organizeourroom.”
I open the door to the even bigger mess her room is now.
Clara shrugs. “Oddly, this isn’t the worst my room has ever looked,” she laughs. “But did you have to move all your shit in here? She’s leaving on Sunday.”
“I was trying to make it realistic! Why would my clothes be in a different room?”
“We could have told her you had so many clothes you needed your own closet.”
“Well, I panicked, and now it’s too late. So help me organize before Lala asks to see our room, because you know she will.” I grab Clara’s hand and pull her further into the room, closing the door behind us.
We spend the next couple of hours frantically organizing and cleaning, trying to make the room look like both of us live in it.
Thankfully, the mess I made was a lot easier to clean up than I had been expecting, and the room came together easily. In fact, everything about this feels easier than I had been expecting.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CLARA
Seeing all of Alejandra’s things next to mine makes me smile. My favorite cologne sits cozied up to her perfume, and our toothbrushes now share a cup. I’m trying not to get carried away here, because in a day, all her things will go back to her room, but right now, I’m letting myself have this. This brief glimpse of what a life as Alejandra’s partner could look like.
When we finish putting all our things away, the room feels alive, finally complete. There are little touches of her scattered in every corner: a candle burning on the dresser, her jewelry dish by the bed, a book resting on her nightstand. Her favorite blanket is at the end of the bed, and the room smells a little like her now. This space is ours now, and I couldn’t love it more.
A low knock at the door startles us both. I’ve been so lost in organizing and admiring how cute “our” room turned out that I completely forgot Lala was here.
“Yeah?” Alejandra calls out as she hangs up the very last shirt from the pile that was on my bed.
“I should start getting dinner ready soon. Can you takeme to the Mexican store so I can pick up what I need, mija?”
“Sure thing!” Alejandra yells back. “Coming?” she asks me.
I shake my head. “I need to shower.”
Alejandra grabs her bag, and as she leans in to kiss me goodbye, I lean in a little too far, and my lips accidentally brush the corner of her mouth. A jolt of electricity shoots through me, freezing me in place, and my heart starts pounding so hard it echoes in my ears.
Alejandra goes still. Her eyes widen slightly. Her lips part, not quite a gasp, but close. Then she shakes her head, recovers, and a playful spark flickers back into her eyes.
I blink a few times, trying to act casual.
“Drive safe,” I say, my voice a little too light. “But if you don’t bring me back a Dr Pepper, I swear I’ll lock you out,” I tease, forcing a grin.
She scoffs playfully. “Whatever.” Her eyes linger on my lips a beat too long before turning away.
