Page 29 of Icing Hearts

She huffs and faces forward without a response. We sit in silence for a few minutes, but I already don’t like it. What’s the point of fighting my way into a seat next to her if she refuses to interact? It was a dick move. Vince is a misogynistic douchebag, but she’s technically right.

I groan and turn toward her. “Look, I’m sorry, Charity. It was rude. I’ll do better.”

Clara ignores me, thumbing to her place in the nextShatter Mebook that she swiped from my bookshelf, face expressionless.

“Come on, talk to me.”

Nothing.

“I’ll bring you green juice every day for a week if you talk to me.”

She inclines her ear toward me but still doesn’t respond.

“Are you really gonna give me the silent treatment this whole three-hour ride?”

Clara shrugs.

“I’ll buy you a car.”

She ignores me.

“The silent treatment is toxic, by the way. I thought you were above that. Guess you’re a walking red flag.”

She almost laughs. Almost. I’m being ridiculous, of course—reversing our roles is absurd. We have our system. Charity loves our system. I’m the grumpy one. She’s my sunshine.

A few minutes later, Clara puffs her cheeks out in annoyance after searching her bag for something.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Charity.”

“I forgot my headphones at home.”

I groan in feigned irritation, pull out my own earbuds, open the case, and hold it out toward her.

“No thanks. If I see your earwax all over that earbud, it’ll shatter the illusion of your perfection, and I prefer to live in a fantasy world.”

I chuckle. “You’re in luck, Charity Case. These are brand new. Haven’t even used them yet. I just opened them today.” I hand her one and smile. “Illusion intact.”

She stares and reluctantly takes it. “You better have good taste in music.”

I put on something loud and derogatory. She gasps and scolds me.

“I’m kidding. Here.” I play a soft and soothing song instead—something conducive to a long ride on uncomfortable bus bench seats. Her shoulders relax almost immediately.

“Do you always have to have the newest and best thing?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“You’re the problem with this country. Chronic consumerism is going to be the death of the economy. Buying less seems counterintuitive but there are far too many people in debt to sustain the current level of material consumption.” Her eyes flame with passion.

“Hm…”

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