Daffodil Sprouts🌼

Ch. 31 ' Payback.

I'm seated at the back seat of Sam's car, my limbs facing opposite directions, hands crossed over my stomach, face dull, eyes tired and lips jotted out. One part of my mind is on the way Mom consistently snubbed me this morning. She packed lunch for me but refused to even meet my eyes with hers.

Another part of my mind is on the phone call I received from Dad in the early hours of the morning. He told me he's in New York, ready to take me back. Told me to call him immediately I was ready, and he implied —in an indirectly threatening way— that he would come to get me himself and wouldn't mind whatever chaos would ensue. Talk about an immature person.

Another is on ho—

"Yesmi."

"What?" I say dryly, my eyes flicking from the windscreen to the back of Sam's head.

"Do you know you're the most popular girl in school right now? I doubt you do. You're all everyone is talking about on snap, group chats, Instagram—"

"You've told me this before."

She mentioned it to me in a chat on Snap, just in a different manner.

"FYI*, I only repeat myself when I don't get a satisfactory reply."

I heave, returning my gaze to the windscreen. Today, I'm feeling pretty bleh, and not up for talks or anything. It's not like I feel down, just can't seem to have enough strength to do anything.

"Yesmi," Sam drawls.

"Ma?"

"Don't disturb Yesmi," Mal says before Sam can reply. She's doing something with her nails; painting them, I figure.

Sam's eyes linger on Mal for a while, and I'm about to shout at her to return them to the road when she nods and says, "Yeah, you're correct. I shouldn't. What am I bothering her for, anyway? Anyone that knows Yesmi knows she's not the kinda girl that would be caught dead making out with a boy in a locker roo—"

"Thank you!" I exclaim, briefly sitting up before settling down back.

An awkward moment of silence follows. Mal speaks. "I think Sam was being sarcasti—"

Sam interrupts. "I absolutely was."

"Oh my God," I shout, sitting right back up. I hold both of the front seats on either side. "Sam!"

"What?" she drawls.

"So I'm the kind of girl people are painting me to be?"

"I didn't mean that . . . not exactly." She chuckles, and it sounds forced. "But . . . you don't exactly give off a good girl vibe either."

I fall back into the chair, crossing my arms. "So you're saying?"

She glances at me. "I'm asking you to tell us what exactly happened."

"Oh, you dumped Jason for 'exactly'?"

"Trying to ignore the question?" Mal asks.

I hold her chair and use it to pull myself up. "We were fighting, Mal. Fighting." I fall back into the seat. "It's embarrassing that I have to explain myself."

Mal turns her hand around, inspecting her nails. "I  guess that says more about the people who saw you guys."

"Rotten minds," Sam says, her voice lower than usual. "I knew it was a lie from the moment I heard it. I mean, you don't fart in front of a guy one day and kiss him the next. That's just not how it works."

I shoot arrows at the back of her head with my eyes. "You didn't have to bring that up."

She puckers and pushes her head forward. I don't need to go closer to see she's hiding a smile.