* * *
She’s right there! It’s just the two of you, make a move dumbass. I mentally yell at myself, staring down at my plate. Taking my last bite of food I look up to see Kelly is also on her last bite, must’ve been really hungry. She gets up and goes over to the sink, which is filled with dirty dishes because everyone in the house is lazy. Standing, I grab my plate and walk over to the sink and dump my plate in then grudgingly start washing dishes.
“Need some help with that?” Kelly asks behind me.
“Sure.” I answer with belated joy.
Now, I need some confusing elaborate plan to make a move… while doing dishes. I smile and think happily to myself. We continue through the dishes for another few minutes, steadily making a huge heap of bubbles and soap, since we have no idea how much to use. Finishing the dishes, I’ve still not managed to work up the courage to try and make a move. So we start trying to clean up the bubbly mess, which quickly turns into a large bubble fight. Dipping my hand into the water I go to launch some of it at her, instead my hand hits a plate floating at the top and stopping myself barely I make it so it doesn’t hit her but instead flies past and shatters on the floor.
“Oh damn!” She shouts in frustration.
I sigh loudly and mutter an apology; she looks at me as if to say it’s not my fault, even though it kind of is, but instead just goes to grab the dustpan and sweep up the wet pieces then throw them away. I turn around and silently go back to washing the remaining dishes, irritated with myself over the accident. It takes another fifteen minutes of awkward silence but we eventually finish the dishes, say goodnight and drift off to our separate rooms. I stare at the ceiling with my hands folded behind my head wondering how I could possibly remedy how much of a dork I looked like tonight. Even though I know it’s probably impossible, I threw a plate, how do I even begin to fix that?