The Kissing Prank

➳ accidental confrontations

                CHAPTER 4

                a c c i d e n t a l  c o n f r o n t a t i o n s 

        My day was surprisingly amicable. I always used to think if I did not wake up to a text from Emily, or annoying call, that I would surely be too immersed in disappointment to go on. Instead, though, I got up, ran almost an hour on my treadmill in the garage, made a delicious meal from one of Paula Dean's cookbooks, caught up on my recorded T.V. shows, and read half of a book.

So, to be put simply, I ran, cooked, and read-- things I normally do not do. I was that kid in high school that dreaded reading an assigned book, or having to prepare food when my mother knew good and well she was just being plain lazy while watching me stir up some homemade marinara sauce in a pot. But, like I admitted, it all was surprisingly amicable. I enjoyed it thoroughly, and although I could of been out and about with Emily instead, for once I did stuff for myself; by myself. 

"Yeah, mom, I made sure to seal the rest away so I can give it to you." My lips cannot help but tweek into a light smile. Even a house apart the woman could not walk herself across the lawn and get the food herself. And that is what I love about her; despite my years of groaning and moaning, saying she should give effort, she never changes herself for anyone. 

Plus, adding another complain to my long list will only make her say her famous words of "well I used up all my energy pushing you out of my loins, boy."

My mom quickly hangs up, her duty done. She adores my cooking, I know that, but I have no idea how she even realized I made something. It has been a long time since I last cooked something up. Having just rented the house out and everything, I do not exactly have an insane amount of money to spend on luxurious groceries. 

Did she have a camera in here somewhere? I give a suspicious look around my kitchen. 

Of course she would never do that! Then again, I am speaking of my mother here, so who knows. After all, she is the woman who thought it would be funny to photobomb my near perfect selfie with the beautiful actress Megan Fox. Let's just say, about half of my "complain list" towards her is about that. 

I place the tub of leftovers into my refrigerator with a shake of my head and chuckle, and then begin to search for ingredients to cook up for dinner. I spot a tomato, green peppers, and cheese, instantly thinking of stuffed peppers. One thing that separates my peppers from most is my sprinkling of potato chips on the top, so when I do not see them, I sigh.

Either I eat some manufactured hot pockets, or go out and buy some potato chips. Instantly I grab my phone from the counter, dial Emily's number instinctively, and await for her too choose what I do. I am one of the most indecisive people in existence, so Emily helps me with that.

"Shit. . ."  I mumble.

I realize what I just did when Emily answers the phone. Instead of her usual loud, boisterous thunder of hello, there is a weak greeting. It is enough to bring me back into reality, and my guilt from yesterday's previous events.

"Oh, uh, sorry, Emily. I accidentally called you." I clamp my eyes shut after saying that. I am sure she does not want to hear I basically did not set out to talk to her. "I mean, er-- sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Emily asks. Her voice is still soft, but far more lively than before. She sounds curious, intrigued. 

I bite my lip, mentally cursing myself for being so clueless on what to say. Should I apologies for yesterday's kiss? Should I even mention yesterday at all? I then remember what Chloe plans on teaching me starting tomorrow, and choose the far more safer apology to express. "Sorry for calling you, I know you are probably busy or something. Anyways, I meant to call my dad, so I will talk to you later I guess. It is pretty important I call him this instance. K, okay? Bye." I ramble.