A Curly Mess Of Emotions✓

12

I stepped out of my shower and checked myself out in the mirror, before stepping out in the hall. Grey leggings, a loose white sweatshirt and my hair in a pony tail. Not too bad, I thought to myself. Ofcourse, they were still frizzy, as always. Violently red.
On the way back to my dorm, suddenly my phone rang- it was my mom. 

I really didn't wanna talk to her. But some part of me, the more rational one, knew that I had to. I had been ignoring her for days now.
Reluctantly, I picked up.

"Thank god, honey. Oh, thank god you picked up."

I blew a raspberry. "Did you call me just to say that or do you have something worth while to say?"

I knew me saying that hurt her, but I couldn't think straight. I didn't want to.

"I see you're settling well in Singapore."

"Yes."

"Did you make any new friends?"

"Yes." Most of them are not new. But she doesn't need to know too much.

"Do you need anything?"

"Nope."

She sighed. "Honey I'm so sorry. But believe me, this is the best decision for you. You need a new start. A fresh start at life," Her voice rose and fell, as if it was expecting something from me.

I just wasn't ready for that.

"Actually, mom, I gotta go. Do some reading for literature."

"Alright Stephanie. Your father sends love."

I hung up, my fists curled up.

"That did not happen," I said to myself, brisk walking towards my room.

I opened the bedroom door only to be greeted by the sound of excessive laughter. A few seconds later, Mark came into full view, doubling over his laughter. He had a picture- my picture- in his hand.

I walked towards him to only find my couch and coffee table layered with all my photographs from that box.

"You look like a squishy teddy bear in these pictures oh sweet Jesus," he managed to say, still laughing.

"All kids look like a squishy teddy bear at the age of four," I muttered while heading towards the box, now empty.

"What the hell were you thinking? You trashed my house!"

"You can't trash a dustbin more then it already is," he shrugged.

I sighed, placing my hands on my hips.

"Fine fine I'm sorry," he said. "Im keeping some of these tho,"
"No you-" I started, only to be cut off by him.
"You don't really have much say in this because," he emphasized on the last word.
"Because...." I gestured him to continue, ready to challenge his say.
"You owe me!" Having said that, he started clapping like a penguin.
"What for, exactly?"
"Oh don't you remember the conversation we had that day outside your house, the day we met?"

(Flashback)
Time flew so fast, it felt like just an hour ago I had spilled coffee on his jacket.
But yet now here we were, at the gate of my house, saying our goodbyes when I recalled something. That I owed him too...for spilling the coffee. I mentioned this to him.

He just laughed.

"Well, let's just save that for the future. If we meet again."
"And if we don't?"
"Then you're pardoned," he said.

And this time, I laughed too.

Oh well.

I sighed and raised my hands in defeat. At the same time, he raised his hands in victory, holding the pictures of his choice with power.