Maisara's pov
It takes a hell lot of effort to say no to Felix when he suggests getting lunch together. Another hell lot of effort takes it to lie to him about the call saying it's something about work and that's the reason I can't have lunch with him.
By the time I bid goodbye to Felix and part ways, I'm literally dying from exhaustion. I'm not entirely sure if it's exhaustion that's killing me or if it's anxiety that I have gained from that one phone call in the library.
After driving a few blocks away, I park the car at the side of a dead-end road and decide to call back the number. It's better to finish the problem earlier than leave it for a later time. After the second ring, they pick up.
"Hey, Rosie! It has-"
"What happened?" The sharp edge of my tone abruptly cuts off the chirpy female tone on the other side of the phone. It takes exactly two seconds before she comes back with a reply, the annoyingly fake excitement dying down a little but still there. "Nothing, Rosie! I just wanted to chat with you. Can't a girl talk with her sister for no reason?"
"What do you want, Daisy?" I bite down every word and make sure she hears them clearly. I can feel her flinching through the phone.
"Do you need more money? Are any of you dying?" I proceed further when no response comes from the other side. Still silence. I can hear her breathing on the phone.
Five seconds, Maisara. Give her five seconds. Then you can cut off the phone.
Good for her that she doesn't take five seconds and answers just the next moment. "Everyone is fine. Need some money to pay the bills."
A dark chuckle leaves my mouth at the drastic change in her tone, feigned excitement replacing with annoyance. "Well, now that's the Daisy I know. How much do you need?"
"Three hundred." A pause. Then, with a much softer tone, at least as much softer as Daisy Katherine can be, "If possible."
"Thanks for telling me that," I say softly and gently, honey dripping from every letter. "It's very much possible for me to send the exact amount of money right now. Or even more. But you know what? I won't do that. The only time I will pay for either of you is when it's time to arrange your funeral. You can contact me then. Until then, goodbye, Daisy. It was nice chatting with you after such a long time."
I don't waste another second to cut off the call and block the number. Throwing the phone over the passenger seat, I release a deep and long breath and rest my head on the steering wheel. As soon as I close my eyes, I'm suddenly back to two years ago in my old house in my room.
"Rose, what were you doing?" The lethal calmness in Mom's tone makes me flinch. I don't dare look up and meet her burning gaze. Suddenly finding the carpet fascinating, I clench the prayer mat tightly with shaky hands and pathetically wait for her next words.
"Seems like Rosie was practicing her new religion, Mom," Daisy purrs from beside her, a clear effort to fuel Mom's anger. And it works as well.
Mom takes a threatening step toward me. Our toes are almost touching. She barks at me. "I asked you what were you doing?"
I flinch again and bite down on my lower lip to prevent the sob from escaping my throat. She waits for another second before snatching the prayer mat out of my trembling hands and throwing it out of the window. It takes all my strength to stand where I am and refrain from running over the window to see where she threw the mat.
"This is my last warning, Rose. Next, it will be you in place of that damn rug."
Her feet make loud thumping sounds as she walks out of the room. Daisy waits another second and I brace myself for her taunting words as well. But she doesn't say anything, just silently follows Mom out of the room. When I finally hear them going downstairs, I run over to the window to see where the mat landed. And I flinched for the third time that afternoon seeing the sharp iron rod of the main gate piercing through it.
Pulling my head up, I pinch the bridge of my nose. A dumb ache is blooming there. I need a cup of coffee as dark as it can be. Sleep would have been my first choice if I hadn't known it does me no good in cases of this sort of headache.
Reviving the engine, I start driving towards the nearest cafe in the area. As the hand in the speedometer starts moving quickly, I suddenly start hearing Felix's voice in my head.
"Those parts of you that are, as you said, 'shells' or the exterior version of yours are meant for everyone to know. What's inside those shells is what you will only allow to show to your special someone, someone with whom you are comfortable with everything and someone who won't judge you. Similar thing happens in the books. Those characters know about that dark side of the other character only because they are the special someone for them."
A sudden dark and quiet chuckle slips out of me. Special someone, huh? How can anyone be someone's special? How can anyone trust a person so easily and deeply to share what really is inside them? How do people do that sort of thing? I have never felt that for anyone. Not even Ryker. I used to love him, of course, but didn't trust him that much to share every little dark secret about me with him. I don't think I'll ever be able to do so with anyone else either. Not even a friend, let alone a special someone.
Maybe that's a reason why it didn't work out with Ryker. Maybe that's a reason also why I can't maintain any sort of relationship, be it friends or family or anything else. Maybe the fault is within me and not with anyone else.
Felix's pov
"I'm fucked, dude!" I announce walking over to the table where Ian and James are sitting and claiming the seat in front of them. Ian is chatting with a waitress and the way he's leaning towards her, I'm guessing he's actually flirting with her. He cuts off whatever he is doing and looks at me with raised eyebrows. James also glances up at me once before going back to his phone.
"I'll love to have some alone times with you later," Ian says to the waitress with a lopsided grin that's supposed to look like a seductive smile. But sadly, it's only making him look like a happy monkey. She nods once at him with a shy smile before walking away. When she's out of our sight, Ian turns around to give me his full attention. "What did you just say?"
I raise my eyebrows in confusion. I haven't even said anything yet. "That I'm fucked?"
Being the dramatic ass he is, he gasps so loudly that the older couple sitting beside our table turns around to see what's wrong. I smile at them apologetically.
"No way! That's.... Oh, God. That's unbelievable. By whom?" James wince at Ian's loud tone. And I start wondering if I should suggest him to work part-time as a substitute for a microphone. Telling him to lower his voice is useless, so I just decide to answer his question. "You guessed it earlier."
His brows knit together in deep thinking. After a moment, he shakes his head giving up. "Um, no, my guess can be pretty wild. Who is it exactly?"
I take the water bottle from the table and take a large sip suddenly feeling shy to say her name out loud. In a much quieter tone, I answer, "Well, it's Maisara."
"What? No way!" His loud voice booms through the entire restaurant again as he goes, "You fucked Maisara?"
Both James and I wince hard at the same time. The couple again turns their head to look at us, at me exactly this time with a judgemental look. I don't bother to acknowledge them this time as I hiss at Ian. "What the fuck, Ian! No, I didn't!"
He blinks at me in confusion. "But you said-"
It's James who finally decides to interrupt, "I think he meant to say something else."
Both Ian and I look at him like he has grown another head. It's pretty rare for him to join in any conversation. I think he doesn't even pay attention to what we are discussing most of the time. So it feels pretty surprising whenever he actually voices out his thoughts like this. He just shrugs at our surprised looks and returns to his phone again.
Ian looks from him to me, then to him, and then again to me. The look of demanding some sort of explanation from us is on his face. "Like what? I didn't know 'fuck' had some other sort of meanings."
I roll my eyes. This is exactly what happens when you are friends with a dumbass. "Get your mind out of the gutter, idiot. James is right. And for your kind information, 'fuck' does have other meanings. I meant it as in I'm in trouble."
The realization finally hits him. He relaxes in his seat. "Oh." Taking the bottle from the table, he starts twisting the cap and asks, "I got it now. What sort of trouble though?"
I clear my throat once before announcing, "I think I have caught feelings for her."
And Ian, being Ian, chokes on the water he has just gulped down, spraying it all over me. A waiter passing by us hands me the tissue box and gives three or four pats on Ian's back. I use the tissue to wipe down the water all the while scowling at the idiot who's dying on his choking.
By the time, I'm done wiping most of the water and Ian has finally come down, he just yells at me. "I need to hear everything about it."
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