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"Why are you so grumpy today?" I asked, observing Sarah nuzzling her head against Rhead's chest.
"Come on, she wants her morning snuggle; let's get her some warm milk," Dior teased her, as usual.
She whined pitifully, continuing to rub herself against Rhead. He let out a heavy sigh and ruffled her hair, causing Sarah to bury her face into the crook of his neck.
I silently questioned him about Sarah's behaviour, but he just shook his head, indicating he had no clue.
Sarah whined once again, and I handed the choco pie which Dior was about to shove in his mouth and Rhead began feeding her, she devoured it, seeming content with the attention Rhead was giving her.
As the bell rang, signalling the end of class, everyone began to file out as the teacher dismissed us. I rose to pack my belongings, while Rhead was gently massaging Sarah's stomach with his thumb.
"Are you feeling okay, Sarah?" I asked, concerned as she shook her head and pouted.
"I know what's up with her," Dior muttered, slinging her backpack over his shoulder and shooting daggers at Rhead's hand as it rubbed Sarah's belly.
"What's the deal?" I queried, feeling a knot forming in my stomach.
"She's preggers," Dior blurted out, deadpanning as he locked eyes with me.
Rhead let out an annoyed sigh and rolled his eyes, clearly over the conversation. I shot Dior a look of disbelief, then turned to Sarah, who was now on the verge of tears.
"What?" I gasped, feeling my heart rate skyrocket.
Sarah sniffled loudly, her face scrunching up as tears welled in her eyes.
"Dior, you're such a jerk" Rhead retorted.
"You don't get to say that," Dior shot back, his gaze softening as he looked at Sarah. "I'll buy the baby all the toys and books," he vowed with determination, "and diapers!" Sarah's wails echoed down the hallway, joining the cacophony of Rhead's tantrum.
I shook my head in disbelief and rubbed my temples, trying to ward off the impending headache. Dior, ever the chatterbox, continued his conversation with Sarah as I grabbed my bag and made a hasty exit from the classroom.
"Insane," I muttered under my breath as I stormed out.
Dior, he's trouble with a capital T. No matter how much we try to steer clear, he's like a magnet pulling us in. Sarah and Rhead? Yeah, they're knee-deep in it now, trying to navigate the chaos that comes with getting involved with him.
I descended the stairs and veered left on the first floor, hoping to escape the chaos. As I entered the lobby, I spotted a group of girls chatting by the receptionist's desk. Probably waiting for their boyfriends, I guessed, as I briskly made my way to the elevator.
