I Little Honesty

Clara leans forward across the high-top table, her eyes sparkling with interest as she waits for your answer about the kiss. The pub's ambient lighting catches in her auburn ponytail, casting warm highlights across her expectant face.

https://imgur.com/a/9oTPtj7

"It was actually a dare," you explain with a small, conspiratorial smile. "From a friend. And it was between you and David—I don't need him getting any wrong ideas." You pause, adding with genuine appreciation, "Plus, you have some gorgeous lips."

Clara's surprise morphs into delight. She throws her head back and laughs, the sound carrying even over the pub's cacophony. "A dare! How deliciously teenage of us." Her fingers toy with the stem of an imaginary wine glass, clearly anticipating David's return with drinks. "And thank you, darling. Years of expensive lip treatments don't go to waste."

She leans closer, dropping her voice to a more intimate register. "But wrong ideas for David? Interesting that you'd worry about that." Her gaze is penetrating, assessing. "You two seemed quite... familiar earlier."

You seize the opening. "Are you and David 'together'?"

The question hangs between you for a moment before Clara snorts inelegantly, covering it quickly with her hand. "God, no! Been there, crashed and burned spectacularly." She shakes her head, ponytail swinging. "David and I dated for about three miserable months last year. We're much better as friends than lovers, trust me."

She narrows her eyes playfully. "Why? Are you interested? Because that would make tonight infinitely more entertaining."

Before you can respond, David appears at your table, expertly balancing three drinks. "Vodka cranberry for the ladies, whiskey neat for me," he announces, sliding the ruby-colored cocktails in front of you and Clara.

"Perfect timing," Clara purrs. "Mia was just explaining that kiss was a dare from a friend." She takes her drink, sipping it with obvious pleasure. "And asking if you and I were an item."

David nearly chokes on his first sip of whiskey. "Us? God, no." He mirrors Clara's earlier denial with such perfect synchronicity that you wonder if they've had this conversation many times before. "Clara and I are ancient history."

"Three months is hardly ancient," Clara protests.

"In relationship years, it might as well be the Jurassic period," David counters with a half-smile. His eyes find yours over his glass. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," you reply, taking a sip of your drink. The vodka hits your system differently than you expected—your new body seems to have a lower tolerance, the warmth spreading through your limbs more quickly than you're used to. "Still figuring out everyone's connections."

"Speaking of connections," Clara interjects, checking her phone, "Jamie's been blowing up my messages asking if you're coming to Pulse tonight." She flashes her screen toward you, showing a string of texts from Jamie punctuated with fire emojis.

David's expression darkens slightly. "Jamie Russell is a prick."

"A hot prick," Clara corrects with a wink in your direction. "And apparently quite taken with our Irish beauty here."

"He doesn't even know her," David mutters into his whiskey.

"Oh, I think he knows parts of her quite well, from what I've heard," Clara teases, clearly enjoying the tension she's creating. "Those gym changing rooms have seen some action, haven't they, Mia?"

You nearly **** on your drink, remembering the fabricated history on your phone. According to those messages, you and Jamie had hooked up in some gym bathroom last weekend—a hookup that never actually happened, at least not in your reality.

"So," Clara continues, eyes bright with mischief, "Pulse at ten? Or are we playing it safe tonight?"

22:30 | Saturday 2 August 2025 | Fox & Crown pub, Putney