A proper couple

It was a sunny, warm day, summertime, sort of. She rode to him on her bike. She had to pick up the exchange student that was staying with her. And she also went to see the one she’d been kissing for the last week.

As she waited, she was nervous. She was always nervous. Everybody thought she was sick. She thought she was sick, too. She felt like it.

The bus arrived and they all jumped off, laughing, showing off their souvenirs; little clay figurines.

She met him, the lover, they greeted each other, smiled and as she was leaving he asked her, if she’d thought about his question.

The question being: When I go back, will you we stay us?”

She didn’t see why not. The relationship wasn’t failing, they weren’t fighting, they still smiled when they were together, they still had things to talk about. She didn’t see herself leaving him any time soon and he was leaving the next day. So she said yes.

So that’s when he concluded that: “Well, that means we’re a proper couple now.”

“Right, yes.”

“And what do couples do?”

She knew what he meant, so she kissed him – on the cheek. Because real kissing hurt.

Soon after she took off on her bike – with her exchange student – and rode away, as fast as she could, so nobody could see her face. Maybe the wind would wipe away the tears.

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