Daffodil Sprouts🌼

Ch. 6 ' Too hard.

My eyes bulge dangerously; I'm scared they might pop out of their sockets. It's him. It's definitely him. Even if I'm not sure of his other wears, I'm certain about the jacket. That, and his honey eyes.

What in the world is he doing here? Did he— I gasp. He must've followed me from the mall. I only saw him as a jerk, but he's also petty.

"Wh—"

"You're a loser. A big loser. The biggest I've ever seen," I say. "If there's a competition for losers, you would come second. Know why you wouldn't be first? It's because you're a loser."

I'd consider his perplexed face, but I'm too busy venting. "I can't believe you followed me. Are you that desperate? Or you aren't sensible enough to prioritise?"

Shut up and think for a while.

"No, you shut up," I say aloud, though talking to myself.

I sight a man walking towards us. His hair is dark brown, like the jerk's. Though his own eyes are brown, they share a striking resemblance.
Again, my brain somersaults.

"You brought your Dad?"

Oh my God.
These people must have used their brain to play football.

I turn to the man. "I don't want to be rude, but I still have to say this. You're supposed to be an adult. I think you should know what matters and what doesn't. We're talking of a wristwatch here. I don't see why you should go through the stress of—"

"Yesmi," Mom yells for the umpteenth time. The difference, this time, is that I answer.

I leave the door and walk to her. "The boy, the jerk I was telling you about that—"

Staring at Mom's confused face, it clicks. The message my brain has been trying to pass to my mind enters.

"That must be Philip and Jason. Go get the door."

This —I look at the jerk— is Jason.

"He called me a rotten potato."
"That sounds like something Jason would say."

Oh no.

"What's happening here, Stephanie?" the man asks, walking in with the jerk.

"I don't know. What were you saying, Yesmi?"

I raise my hand. "Are they . . . "

"Yes. Philip, and Jason."

It feels like I've been dipped in ice-cold water. The jerk is my . . . stepbrother?

"This is Yesmi?"

"Yeah." Mom smiles.

Philip comes forward and puts his hand on my shoulder. "Nice to meet you. I see you mistook us for other people, that's fine. We've been expecting you." He grins.

"Th— Thank you," I manage.

Mom is still smiling proudly at me like I didn't just insult her husband for no reason. Why didn't I shut up and think?

I told you to, and you shut me up.

"Shut up," I say, gasping right after. Stepdad Philip is still in front of me. "I mean, no, not you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. About the, um, shut up. I was talking to myself."

He laughs. "It's fine."

Mom giggles. "So, Jason is the boy you met at the mall?"

My eyes clash with Jason's, who suddenly looks uncomfortable.

"Mall, no." He laughs nervously. "It can't be me." He stares up.

He's lying.
It's obvious.