Clara was sat at a table in the brightly lit ice cream parlor toying with a plastic spoon as she spun it on the table and watched it fall down with a light clatter. She didn’t know what exactly she was planning on saying to Dante, or if things were going to be weird between them. If they were it would more than likely be her fault, she knew that much. Her eyes were trained on the tiny neon spoon like her life depended on it, the cries and hollers of small children echoing around her, hopped up on sugar and sprinkles. She’d read the Zine, she knew she shouldn’t believe it but she did. And it was scaring her slightly. She was lost in thought and it wasn’t until the chair in front of her was pulled out that she looked up, her eyes landing on the shaggy haired boy. “Hey.” She said, her usual bright smile fixing on her face.
@dante-ashur
