I'm Glad Your House Was Demolished | Kuffy

Two

Ever since I was little, my parents would always tell me to practice kindness. They encouraged me to open the door for strangers, wave to the car that stopped for me to cross the road, and use my manners to ask for things. There was one phrase they said often. If someone doesn't have a song, sing them yours. That basically meant that if someone is missing something that you have, let them have yours and help them. Give them your food if they're hungry. Give them your coat if they're cold. Give them your house if they lack shelter. But that only applies to people. Kira is a devil, not a person.

My parents exchange looks with hers, none of them knowing why Kira and I are having a death glare contest right now. If looks could kill, we'd both be in our graves right now. Well, if looks could kill, then I'd surely have killed her before she could kill me. No way would I ever let her beat me at that. 

"Okay," my mom says, breaking the tension. "Buffy, will you please show Kira up to your room? I'll bring the air mattress up in a bit."

I turn my eyes to my mom, reluctant to do anything with Kira.

"Please?" my mom begs.

Here's the thing. Kira's a bitch. But my mom isn't. I guess it's probably good that my love for my mom is stronger than my hate for Kira. It's certainly good for Kira, because otherwise the snake would be sleeping in the kitchen. 

Through clenched teeth, I grit out my answer. "Sure."

I whip around and start up the stairs, purposefully going faster than Kira can comfortably keep up with the bag she's carrying. I open the door to my bedroom and take a second to appreciate how nice and clean it is before that piece of dirt steps into it. 

She drops her black duffle bag on the grey carpet then looks around at my room's purple walls with photos of my friends stuck all over. On my book shelf, several trophies from my childhood sports are displayed, covering the books that I never actually read. between my desk and my bed is a large space which is currently occupied by a rug that Andi made and embroidered for me during Winter break two years ago. 

"You'll be on the floor," I state. 

She purses her lips and looks down at the carpet, saying in a sarcastic voice, "Lovely." Then she looks a bit harder and says, "When was the last time you vacuumed? Last year?"

"Today, actually," I snarl. "But I probably should've left the dirt there. Would've helped you feel more at home."

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"Look, Kira, if you're going to stay in my house, you're going to have to follow a few rules."

"Your house?" she scoffs. "Did you pay for it?"

"Number one," I continue, ignoring her sass. "Everything you see around here is mine, and you don't touch it. Number two. When my friends come over, you stay away from us."

"Oh, that's right," she says with a smirk. "You're friends with my ex. I almost forgot."

"TJ is hardly your ex. You manipulated him into hanging out with you."

"Hmm. Or maybe he just saw how great I am."

"I doubt that. It's not possible to see something that doesn't exist."

Her eyes narrow in loathing, which only assures me that I've won this battle. 

"Number three," I say. "You will keep your attitude in check. Hard, I know, but just try."

"Wow," her sarcastic voice drips out. "This coming from you."

"Number four—"

"You know what," she cuts me off, "I don't need to listen to your stupid rules, so just save your breath."