vandrophobia

The Worst Cliches are the Real Ones

Jeff leans back and smiles. I bite my lip amazed at what just took place.

We just kissed. We just kissed to the perfect music. We just kissed under the florescent lights in the back of a shop by an old Easy-Bake oven and a pan of wet cake.

Wow, talk about ruining the mood right then and there.

"What?" Jeff says looking at me. "Are you actually speechless?"

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I just purse my lips and try to whistle.

Crap. I forgot I can't whistle.

To cover up the awkward embarrassment, I grab the pan of wet cake and head over to the sink. Jeff watches me, completely amused.

"So," he says observing me as I scrub the pan, "this is how to get Lira to shut up."

"HEY!" I yell at him.

Jeff only smiles his stupid smile.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow, LIIIIIRA."

I look up to see Jeff leaving.

"Ah!" I manage to say, albeit faintly. "Bye."

Several minutes pass before I realize the pan has been clean for a while now. I just can't seem to think straight. Jeff? My childhood best friend, Jeff?

I sigh turning off the water. I can only think of one thing right now: how amazingly, stunningly, and not-so-shockingly cliché this is.

I might as well expect Wintar to turn around and profess his love to me. And then out of nowhere he and Jeff will battle for my love with swords while wearing suits of armor made of dragon skin. And I'll stand atop a balcony weeping with a silk handkerchief. Then, after whoever wins, a rainbow will appear over the castle as a unicorn or some amazing fairy tale creature shows up randomly. Oh, and of course cue the orchestra to come in and for the camera to pull back and then fade out.

Yeah, completely cliché.

I sigh again, but this time I find myself smiling a bit. Why? Because as far as cliché goes, childhood friend and all, it's a rather nice one.

"UM, LIRA!" my mother suddenly calls out to me.

I dry my hands. "Yeah?"

"Can you come out here for a second?"

I hurry out to see my mom pointing toward the front of the store, which consists of glass panes.

"What?" I ask her.

"There's a boy out there that has been crying endlessly since Jeff left and muttering your name," she tells me. "I think he knows you. Could you tell him to leave? He's frightening away customers."

I laugh, skeptical. Yeah, right. Who would—

HOLY CRAP! WHAT IS THAT!?

A face with some indescribable expression is pushed up so tightly against the glass of the store that the stranger's mouth, nose, and eyes are stretched until they resemble a Jack-o-Lantern.

"MMefffff!" I hear the muffled cry. "Mwyyyyyyyy!"

In that moment, I knew zombies really did exist.

I head outside and the second I step out the door, this half-dead, fully-crazed being lunges for me.

"LIRAAA! HOW COULD YOU!"

I fall backwards to the ground.

"Ow!" I yell out. "Okay, really now!"