C23 Twenty-three

Clyde

“John, please stop at the nearest ice cream shop,” I said, leaning forward slightly in my chair.

“No,” Medora snapped, her voice sharp. “I’m literally wanted. I shouldn’t be having ice cream in public.”

I bit my lip, holding back the urge to argue. “Medora, if something’s wrong, just talk to me. Don’t put on this childish attitude. You’re not a kid.”

“Coming from the kid,” she shot back