Daffodil Daydreams
I swear to yoba, if i hear one more half assed guitar riff (or maybe they’re torturing birds…?) I will loose it. Today is supposed to be my day. So far, all ive gotten is a migraine and a shitty apology from Alex about how he can’t come over till later thanks to Dusty or some other bullshit. Emily tried to make me something, I guess that was nice of her. I’m surprised she remembers I like coconuts, must have gotten them from that girl in the desert she pretends not to fawn over.
Mother and father sent me something, I haven’t bothered unwrapping it yet, they hardly know me. Last year I got a prismatic shard (fuck no), the year before some money and a message about boys. The sound of the front door being bashed (knocked, I guess) pulls me out of my misery. I don’t really want to open it. Emily insists i stop being such a whiny whore and start doing stuff around the house (ok, maybe she said it differently, but that doesnt matter). I check my hair and makeup by habit, adjusting how my shirt sits on me before mustering the confidence to go open the door.
What the fuck.
”Haley! Uh, i know we dont really know each other-“ (correction, we hate each other) “but i remebered it was your birthday and i thought you might appreciate something-!” Before i can process anything, the purple haired dyke is shoving a daffodil in my hands, grinning as though she dosent hate my guts. I notice Sam behind her, he seems pretty zoned out though.
”Oh. Thank you.” I manage before I slam the door in her face. Not doing this today. What the hell does she think she’s doing? Ignoring me for years only to drop in out of nowhere? I pretend it’s habit when I place the daffodil in my flower press, it’s just for photography. I sigh, running my hands through my hair.
It’s fine, I’ll go talk to Alex and everything will go back to normal.
oOo
I pretend not to be bored off my ass sitting in his room, listening to him babble on about hot sweaty men and sports. I swear im trying to focus but I hear this shit every week and my gaze has wandered out the window, landing on that weird farmer who’s fishing, ugh. I’m about to knock some sense into Alex (or at least change the topic) when that same familiar flash of purple is approaching the farmer. I felt a twinge of something. Not jealousy, yoba no. I settled on disgust, though I still couldn’t get over the fact she remembered my birthday. Then again it was the day after her favourite childish holiday.
shut up Haley.
focus on Alex.
You love alex.