For Sara, who gets the great honor of having my first Clique fanfiction dedicated to her, and who gets the great honor of converting me to Josh/Claire. I hope you enjoy it!
The bite of the autumn New York air makes Claire shiver. She can almost taste the coming of winter on the wind. Her slouchy over-the-shoulder sweater is only somewhat helping to keep her warm. She scrunches up her shoulders, trying to keep her body heat in. An involuntary gasp escapes her lips when her cold shoulder brushes her cheek.
She can smell the turkey Mrs. Hotz is baking from her position on the porch. She can see the lights in the house that are begging her to just knock on the door already. Her breath wafts out in front of her forming dancing white swirls. The overgrown bangs that have escaped her braid swing into her face, and she pushes them back behind her ear. Her rough, woolen glove warms her face briefly. She feels nothing—especially in her new skinny jeans—except for nervous and so very cold.
She momentarily considers telling him Josh she couldn't make it. But then he opens the door and she is in his arms and she's feeling warmer and less nervous already.
Josh and holds Claire's hand, leading her into the living room. They're both smiling, enjoying each other's company and their full stomachs. Claire flops down onto the cool leather couch, sighing loudly. Josh laughs, pulling her feet up so that he can sit under them.
"So what'd you think?" he asks.
"The food was amazing," she states. "You're family was…" She pauses here, searching for the right word.
"Boring?" he suggests.
"Yeah," she says. Realizing how that must sound, she quickly adds, "I mean, a little. I just always thought they'd be more ridiculous like you. Especially at a huge family party."
"Too bad my Uncle Bro wasn't here," Josh says sadly. "He's like that."
"You have an Uncle named Bro?" she asks, holding back laughter.
"Well, his name's not actually Bro. And I don't think he's even my uncle. That's just what everybody calls him: Uncle Bro."
"Maybe your family is more ridiculous than I thought," she concedes.
After a moment of silence, Claire tries to sit up, but pauses when Josh yells at her.
"Wait! You'll mess up you're shoes!" She leans back on her elbows instead of sitting up now, and strains her neck to see what on earth he is doing.
"Are you drawing on my shoes?" she asks, laughing lightly.
"Yes," he says, and when she looks at him questioningly he adds, "With mini sharpies. They're the best."
"I cannot believe you're twenty-one…" she says somewhat facetiously.
"Why? Because I'm amusing myself with an artistic endeavor?" he asks, his light-teasing tone matching hers.
"I wouldn't really call that artistic," she says, kicking her right leg up in the air to look at her shoe. "You just drew a penis on my shoe."
"Yeah, but it's an artistic penis," he says defensively.
"You do know what artistic means, right?"
"Fine," he says, surrendering. "I'll just make it into something else. Like a corndog!" A smile lights up his face as he draws Claire's leg back toward him. His tongue sticks out of his mouth as he concentrates.
"Ew," Claire laughs. "I'm never going to be able to eat a corndog again."
It is quiet for a moment as he draws. "Okay," he says with a final flourish of his mini-sharpie of choice. "There. You're non-penis corndog is done."
She kicks her feet of his lap and sits up next to him. "You're insane. But you're the best." She places a light, flirty kiss on his lips. Just as he's leaning into her to deepen the kiss, she smiles and pulls away. "Now what's for dessert?"
Josh opens his mouth to say something, but Claire interjects before he gets any words out.
"Please don't use that line when I ask you what's for dessert and you say 'you're the dessert.' That's weird," she says.
He fumbles over his words for a minute, looking frantically around the room for something to say. "Um, we could have Jolly Ranchers? There's a bunch on the table right there. My mom's obsessed with them."
"I was thinking of something more along the lines of pumpkin pie. It is Thanksgiving," she says.
"Wait!" Josh exclaims. "Have I told you what I'm thankful for today, yet?"
"Pumpkin pie?" she guesses.
"Well, yes, that too. But I was thinking of you."
"I'm thankful for you, too," she says straddling his lap and kissing him again.
"Let's go have pie now," he says, his lips still touching hers.
"Okay," she says, letting out another laugh and pulling away slightly. "Let's stop making out and have pie."
Josh smiles at her. "Or we could just have pie later."
"Later sounds good to me," Claire says.
"Or never. After all, you're the best dessert," Josh says.