"What?" I asked innocently, staring at Mom and Zimba like butter wouldn't melt in my mouth.
"Would you mind giving me a freaking explanation of what happened?" Mom yelled, full serious mode.
"Good evening, Mom," I greeted sweetly.
"Don't change the topic!" Zimba snapped.
"I just went out with my classmate. Anything wrong with that?" I shrugged.
"You tell me if anything's wrong with that!" Mom mimicked in a mocking tone.
"Yes? It's not like I went on a date."
"For God's sake, you're all over the news right now! What the hell were you doing with that guy? And don't you dare say I'm overreacting! If your dad calls to complain—not that he'll scold you, no, he'll dump it all on me—I swear I'll hit the hell out of you!" Mom screamed.
"Mom, trust me, okay? I don't even like him that much!"
"Ohhh, so you do like him a little?" Zimba teased, wiggling his brows.
"Shut up!" I screamed, frustrated, especially when I saw Mom and Zimba elbowing each other with knowing looks. Traitors.
"Should I get the stuff out of the car, or just leave it there?" Zimba asked, smirking, obviously trying to irritate me.
"Zimba, just let me breathe! Sarah! Mark! Get the shopping bags inside. Sarah, my room's in order, right?"
"Yes ma'am," Sarah bowed slightly.
Soon, the living room was stacked with customized Lindajux tote bags, boxes of shoes, jewelry, and feminine products. The place looked like Christmas came early.
"He gave you all this?" Mom asked, stunned.
"Apparently, he did," Zimba muttered.
"You need to be careful with him. Right, Zimba? Tell her!" Mom demanded, running her hand through her hair.
"Yeah, right. Be careful with that guy. I don't like him. At first, I thought maybe I did—"
"Don't tell me you're gay!" I teased, smirking.
"Hell no!" he shot back too fast, his face flushing.
Mom shot me the look. The "mind your mouth before I mind it for you" look. I smirked anyway, watching Zimba squirm on the floor. Serves him right. Hehehe.
"I meant, I only liked him because you looked like you were enjoying yourself. You were all over him, so I tried to accept him as your future boyfriend or whatever—"
"Excuse me?! I wasn't all over him!" I gasped, fuming. "You son of a—"
"Shhh. Can I just have my burger now?" Mom cut in, easing the tension.
"Oh, yeah. He bought this for you." I shoved the bag of burgers toward her.
"So thoughtful," she said, peeking inside.
"None for me?" Zimba asked, pretending to look wounded.
"Obviously none, Mr. Gay," I teased again.
This time, his whole face hardened. Fists clenched. Without a word, he stood up and stormed out. My smirk slipped. I hadn't expected him to take it that seriously. Still, pride check—I wasn't chasing him. Nope. Not happening.
I called Sarah and Florence to haul the rest of my things upstairs.
"You really need to mind how you talk," Mom said sharply. "You've made him angry. Anyway—tell me about this Bernard boy. His family?"
"His dad's Senator Luke Simons. His mom's a doctor abroad. Bernard's in my school."
"Hmm. Alright. I'll go check on Zim."
Jealousy flickered in my chest. Why did she always care more about her adopted son than me?
"Fine. Tell him I'm not apologizing," I scowled.
"You'll have to. And invite Bernard over for dinner."
My head whipped up. "When?"
"Tomorrow evening."
"Thanks, Mom. Love you!" I grinned, blowing her a kiss.
Wait—what? Why was I suddenly excited? Someone check me into a hospital. I only liked Bernard as a friend. Period.
My iPhone beeped. Bernard.
Bernard: hello beautiful!
Me: hi ugly!
Bernard: lol
Me: not funny.
Bernard: you haven't really seen me. My looks attract girls.
Me: ok fine. hi dear… Mr. pollen grains.
Bernard: really?
Me: thanks for today tho! Mom invited you for dinner tomorrow.
Bernard: really? She likes me? Mrs. Lola knows me?
Me: (^～^) be here tomorrow bye.
Bernard: bye.
I flopped onto my bed, but my chest felt tight. Zimba angry = weeks of him ignoring me. And that was a punishment worse than Mom's yelling.
Still, my mood brightened when I remembered who I'd see tomorrow—my bestie, Ann. My crazy, arrogant, heartbreaker bestie. Rich. Loud. Squeaky-voiced. Boys fell at her feet just for her to crush them. And I loved her to bits.
I texted her a quick hi. She didn't reply right away (probably breaking some poor guy's heart). Typical Ann.
I sighed and collapsed fully, my thoughts clouded by a certain white boy with an annoying smile.
---
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