Daffodil Sprouts🌼

Ch. 22 ' He's mad. Again.

"You did this to my hair, didn't you?" he asks in a painfully calm voice, pointing to his head with a soapy finger. Jason really walked out of the bathroom to come to yell at me.

"I was . . . I was . . . "

"You were what?"

I look down in guilt.

"You suddenly felt my hair was some toy you could play with. How dare you?"

I know his voice would be louder and stronger if he isn't exhausted. Now, tired as he is, he sounds more sad than upset.

"I— I'm sorry. I was just trying to practice." I realise how stupid I sound when 'practice' leaves my mouth.

"Practice? Practice?! With my f**king hair? I stayed up all night to take care of you and this is how you repay me. By ruining my hair?"

Guilt washes over me. I did not mean to ruin his hair. I was just idle and it came in handy; the problem is I forgot to loosen it. Nonetheless, I've successfully bothered Jason again. His night was cut short because of me, and the little strength he retained is now being used to yell at me.

"I'm sorry. I'm very sorry."

I try to move towards him, but he raises an arm to stop me.

"It's . . . " His honey eyes stare deeply at mine. "You're nothing but a shameless Ingrate, Yesmi. Just leave me be." He walks out.

His word hit me so hard, that many seconds later, I'm still in the position he left me at. My hand finds the frame of a chair and I drop down into it. I only realise now, that the call is still on.

"Sam," I say, my voice weak. "Are you on your way?"

No reply.

"Sam? Mal?"

"H— hey."   "Hello— um."

"Are you guys coming already?"

"Yeah," Mal says. "Just . . . "

"Intense," Sam says.

I sigh and cut the call.

———

"Yes," I drawl, doing my best not to trip on the stairs as I put on my shoe. "Give him the phone."

"He won't collect it," Sam complains.

According to her, the porter won't let them in. Not until someone from inside speaks to him.

"Put on the speaker then. He'll hear anyways."

"Okay. It's on."

"Good morning, it's— argh!"

I fall down the last three stairs, landing with my back. All because I could not wait to get to the couch before putting on my shoes. I need to start thinking rationally and logically.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks in a panicking voice.

I put my arm under my head and cross my legs. The fall position isn't so bad. "Yeah. Lost my footing. Is the speaker still on?"

"It is," she replies. "Man looks as confused as I am."

"Drive in," I hear a thick voice say.  "I can already tell that's Stephanie's daughter. She's always tripping or bumping into one thing or the other."

"Wh— wh— whaat?" I say in a tiny voice.
What is this man trying to make of my poor self? It's not my fault these things happen to me!

Sam chuckles. "You're right about that, thanks."