Cracks

021 | lime green

L I M E  G R E E N

—

Klaire had decided she was utterly, pathetic.

She'd been there countless times, had attempted almost everything at least once, and yet she still, for the life of her, could not make a choice. She thumbed the menu, stuck in a self-imposed decision purgatory between pancakes and omelet, between sweet and savory. If she got the pancakes, her risk of puking during her workout later would increase exponentially. But if she got the omelet, her puke chance would exponentially reverse itself, even if she got a cookie. Finally she peeled her eyes off of the menu, sticking them to the boy across the table.

"You know what you're getting?" There was a slight pause before he reacted, and she worried if he hadn't heard hear or had ignored her for she'd have to sit there and pretend to not feel awkward.

"Probably..." His eyebrows scrunched together in scrutiny. "pancakes."

"Gotcha." She sat back in her seat, biting her lip as she unleashed her inner turmoil. "I can't decide between that and the omelet." After moment's pause, he set the menu down, crossing his arms and leaning forward lightly. The silver strands atop his head lit in the weak rays of sun that had managed to poke through the swollen clouds. Klaire though it looked like a halo.

"You feeling breakfastish or lunchish?"

"I think lunchish–"

"Then get the Omelet. You can always come back and get pancakes again some other time." She shut off her brain. "You know what," Klaire closed the menu, physically killing indecisiveness once and for all. "I'm getting that."

Avery smiled again. Between that and the way his hair played with the light, Klaire wondered if she was inside some alternate universe.

"But can I have a bite of your pancakes?" He furrowed his brows slightly and shrugged nonchalantly.

"Sure, I don't care."

"Awesome." She pushed the menu farther away to decrease hesitation, determined to stick to her initial decision. It took approximately twenty-one days to kill a habit. If she started now, it was only three weeks until her indecisiveness was cured. That probably wasn't how it worked but Klaire could only hope. The waitress chose that moment to deliver their coffees, Avery not hesitating to tear open a sugar packet and dump the entirety of its contents into his cappuccino. Klaire mentally scrunched her nose in distaste. Call her a coffee purist, but she liked her coffee black or with milk. None of that sugary frapuccino crap. To distract her stupid mind, she took a sip of the foam, turning her attention to the world outside, the world she was disconnected from by a sheer centimeter of glass. People bustled about at a slightly faster rate now, the pelting rain more than enough incentive to reach their destinations. Klaire saw a girl sprint past, wearing lime green rain boots. Her eyes followed the raindrops and she briefly bet on two chasing each other down the pane of glass, though she soon grew bored, turning her attention to the white vase on the table filled with Transvaal daisies. Their hue was almost to that of her dress. It reminded her of something.

"Hey Avery?"

"Hmm?" He was preoccupied, stirring a spoon in his coffee.

She looked into her cup, "Thanks for helping me out." and took another sip.

The stirring paused a moment, provoked by the actualization of the prior unawareness. "Um, with what?" Her eyes flitted up and she felt a dull look growing on her face.

"The dress thing."

"Oh. No problem." It quickly started back up, though evidently less aggressive. Klaire questioned if he'd realized just how loud the sound of a metal spoon against fired clay could come to be.

"What are you wearing?" His shoulders shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes still down.

"Probably some suit from Devon, or a rental company."

"Do you have something red, like a tie?"

"I might." He raised an eyebrow, though she could tell his attention was still on his drink. "Does someone need one, or something?"

"You idiot." Klaire expressed with yet another dull look, amused yet annoyed at his momentary density.

"Oh." Avery's face twisted to foster acknowledgment. "The whole color-matching-dance thing." That wording made her stare at him for a moment, not unlike how she'd probably react to the hypothetical of a tree growing out of his head. Then, not knowing what else to do, she chuckled. "Yeah, that." Avery rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink, a momentary pause that lulled them into a comfortable silence. One short breadth of time that was quickly ended by the clank of pottery hitting pottery.

"So we're really gonna do this thing?" Klaire set her own cup down, happily letting the sides warm her hands. It was already starting to get colder, brisker, frostier. Her gut told her that the first snow wasn't many weeks away. "The dance?" The bell dinged as the door opened. More customers came trickling into the coffee shop, alongside a cool gust of air that Klaire felt, even from across the room. As goosebumps slithered up her legs, a smirk cracked onto Avery's lips.

"What else?"

She opened her mouth to respond, in possession of an incredibly witty—if she said so herself—reply to bounce out. Then hands clamped down on her shoulders.