THREESOME

fourteen - Daisy's secret

Sooo, more hours have gone by. It's Saturday and almost everyone is busy. Daisy apparently found this boy she liked and so they are going on a date. She didn't want to tell me so she got her roommate to say she was sleep, yesterday. Scott is still working with Michele. I wonder if they are making out by now...hmm.

Charlie is grading his last papers for the Juniors. A paper he didn't even assign, and I'm out of any other options. And yes, I believe Charlie because I went by the class and he was completely submerged in work. Like, I said hey and it took him like 5 hours to say hey back. How many kids does he teach? I'll ask next time.

Sooo, I'm completely alone. Times like this I wish I had Samantha. And I know, why? Because even though she claimed she hated me, she'd always drop her things to make sure I wasn't bored. But I don't know if I feel like forgiving her just yet.

Actually, I hadn't really forgave anyone but the girl who threw the pencil at me the other day. I met her at the vending machine and she said she had mental issues which is why she did what did. As in, anger, and server jealousy issues. She thought Scott was cute and got mad seeing him with me.

Her names Lilac by the way.

I honestly just like don't-

Since when does Daisy like boys? I thought to myself. One thought interrupting the other.

That thought was correct. Since when does Daisy but any interest into boys...?

Daisy - Thursday night

I was heading to food shop when I noticed this nerdish looking boy struggling with something. People say I'm small and make fun of me but I'm pretty strong. I mean, I have been in jail with some pretty crazy people.

"Hey loser, you need help?" He snapped his head and looked at me in confusion.

"I...What?"

"I said, you need help?" I slowed it down as if I was talking to a child.

"What did you say before that?" He balled up his fist and I did the same.

"I said," I got up on my tiptoes, "hey loser, you need help," I slowed it down even more. Jeez this kid was stupid.

He grinned. "You must be Daisy, I'm Max," he stuck his hand out.

"How do you know my name? And am I supposed to know you?"

"You never heard of me? The infamous Max Flowers? Wow. He must really hate me," he mumbled that last part but I still heard him.

"Oh, let me guess. His shit brother?"

He didn't respond. Sorrow grew evident on his features. "Look, I know I must've seemed like this big asshole but, it was all because of parents. They influenced me to act like a piece of shit. I just came to apologize."

"Apologize? What makes you think I want you near my friend?" I stepped closer to him, leaving little to no space between us.

"I didn't say you did but, he's my blood." He stooped down to my eye level.

"Yeah well my brother's blood and I can't even stand his name anymore. I had to get that tattoo removed from body. He disgust me," I folded my arms over my chest. I don't care what any man says or does, you bleed, I bleed. I'm not scared of you.

"Listen little girl, I-"

Before he could finish that thought, I punched him in the stomach.

"Call me little girl again and you won't have any."

"Fine," he wheezed.

Couple hours after his altercation with Scott

So that didn't go how I expected. Scott didn't want to talk about it so we didn't. I thought he was here to apologize but turns out he just wanted to bother Scott. Nonetheless bribe us. How did he even find us? Oh nevermind maybe it was his mother or something.

I didn't get how he could just smile and be okay even though he punched in his face by his younger brother. I mean, it's kind of embarrassing. Plus, he really did put on a show. I mean if someone hurt me like that, I'd probably cry if I wasn't a tough ass bitch.

Ouu, but maybe he's a rare type. Maybe he's pain resistant. I'm pain resistant. I could literally get stabbed with a thousand needles and not feel a thing.

Friday

"Max?" I looked at guy sitting at booth. "What are you still doing here?"

"I want to make it right. Yesterday I assed it up and, I'm sorry."

"You should be apologizing to Scott," I sat at the booth with him.

"Yah but...I'm apologizing to you too. My parents told me a lot about you and Frankie. Then she showed me a picture of you guys and I thought you were very pretty," I started to raise my fist up to punch him in the mouth. "Before you hit me," he put his hands up in defense, "let me finish." I put my fist down. "I thought you were good looking so I thought if I made things right with Scott, I'd be able to get closer to you. But yesterday, I totally blew my chances didn't I?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't date pretty boys," I said in a mock expression.

He scoffed. "I'm not a pretty boy anymore. I'm 23. Pretty boy is what you call rich high school boys who throws parties every weekend."

"Was that not you?" I questioned in confusion.

"Ye- n- I didn't throw parties okay. But the rich boy thing yes." He raised his eyebrows a little.

"Yeah. No. Plus you definitely aren't my type, like at all. Ever lit a car on fire?" I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Like a, like a toy car?" He stuttered.

"No. Like you were mad at your professor for giving you a grade you don't deserve so you torched his car. That's what I mean."

His eyes grew wide.

"Damn mini, your fucking crazy. Did you get arrested?"

I shook my head and hummed in response. "This was my inmate identification number," I lifted my shirt revealing the numbers  B-002347.

"Holy shit. Dope."

"You got any tattoos?"

"Can't show you here. Let's go back to my place." He nodded his head towards the exit. What the fuck does that mean?