Maksimillian

I was about to kiss her when her phone rang.

“Căcat (Crap)!” she whispered an oath.

I didn’t even know what it meant, but I got the gist. Her eyes went wildly to her bag that she was still holding. I recalled she transferred it there before trying on the dresses earlier. Now, she fished it out of the pocket of the bag and signalled me to not speak.

“Da, Mămică,” she answered.

‘Ah, her mum’s calling.’ I rubbed my face with my hands and let Zenovia talk with her mother. I crossed the carpeted floor; my steps were quiet. I took the plastic with takeaways and placed them...