The Devil Dancer

Chapter Forty Eight

"Are you really going to eat yourself to death?"

I pursed my lips with my mouth full of chocolate bits before moving my gaze away from the TV to look at my mother. I'm pretty sure I'm such an ugly sight right now but I don't really care.

My mother definitely thought the same.

"Honestly, I don't even know how we're related," she muttered under her breath as she walked past me towards an empty couch.

I raised my eyebrows at her, "Mom, you're too old to say that."

"And you're too old to pout like that."

I scrunched my nose in answer.

It had already been two days since I arrived back in Seoul from Jeju-do. Unlike Jisoo unnie, I chose to go home to the mansion instead of the academy, especially since I'm not exactly ready to face everyone.

Besides, I still hadn't managed to reach Jungkook yet after everything that had happened. I tried calling him as soon as I bought a new phone (RIP my old one) and its safe to say that there are probably approximately more than 30 missed calls on his phone right now.

I prefer to think that he didn't answer it because of the new unknown number but then who am I kidding again?

He probably hates me and doesn't want anything to do with me anymore now.

At the depressing thought, I closed my eyes and groaned in frustration.

"What is the matter with you? You've been acting weird since yesterday," my mom shot me a judging look.

I ignored her question and grunted some more before grabbing at my chocolate and taking a huge chunk out of the bar.

She wasted no time to throw a small pillow at me, "Oh my God this kid, seriously. What's wrong?"

Ugh, moms and their motherly instincts.

"Its nothing," I mumbled lowly.

"Don't 'nothing' me. Are you pregnant?"

What the hell?

I immediately choked at the unexpected question. "What? Mother! No!" I denied quickly with a flushed face.

She squinted her eyes at me, "Are you taking drugs?"

This woman, seriously.

"No."

"Are you getting suspended from college?"

"No."

"Is this about a boy then?"

Silence.

"I knew it," she exclaimed, "Who is it? Do you want me to go and beat him up?"

My mouth fell open as I took in her defensive stance, her small hands shaped into tight fists in front of her chest.

I mean, ever since she started getting the expensive regular treatments she kept acting like she's a fighter from the MMA or something. Also not to mention the fact that her sassiness level always exceeded the usual limit for some unknown reason.