Clarisse’s eyes fixated on Wichita, never even blinking for a second, she stared in disbelief. Sarah was just settled as if this isn’t a surprise to her, as if she is habitual to this kind of unpredictability of Wichita.
Clarisse had the impression that Wichita was always sophisticated and did all the appearances in primly dressed suits or formal attires. But this was nothing like she had expected from Wichita. She might’ve thought of Wichita in a wrong way. She was not even as slightly convinced to believe what she saw is real. It made her contemplate other possibilities, like if she’s inebriated on something. Possibly ecstasy, Wichita seemed oddly happy.
Clarisse leaned towards Sarah and asked, “is she drunk or high on something?”
“What? god no…,” Sarah didn’t hide how offended she
