I looked at the clouds that were moving across the sky, noting that the one directly overhead looked like a papal hat. I wondered if mentioning this might distract her from our current conversation, sort of like when warning someone that a bee has landed on their shoulder - the ensuing flapping about and screaming making previous conversation unrecoverable.
"Well?" she said, impatiently, my long pause only having served to irritate her. I pushed the thoughts of religious headgear to the side, instead focusing on how to answer her question without unfortunate side effects.
"No, he didn't kiss me. I don't know where you might have heard that." Though even as I said the words I could feel his mouth on mine and caught my hand before it moved to my lips.
He had agreed that saying nothing, denial, was the proper thing to do. No one had seen us and it was the product of too much red wine and years of inappropriate flirting. Meaningless.
She sighed, relieved, and leaned back. "I didn't think so...I mean, you two have been friends for so long, it would sort of be gross, right?" She didn't expect an answer, so I just laughed, wondering if there was something wrong with my moral compass for wanting to call her a bitch in that moment. Instead, I went back to looking at the clouds, the hat having turned into something different by now. And I thought, "If this tiny betrayal is so easy, what else am I capable of?"
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