4. Picture Perfect

Roses are red
 Violets are blue 
Sugar is sweet
 And so are you

 But the roses have wilted
 The violets are dead
This woman's becoming a bother 
I don't get why she's even cared

My spirits dropped even lower as we approached my house. I spoke now in a low tone, for the first time since she caught my act, “Don’t ring the bell, I have keys.” The only indication she gave that she heard me was a curt nod, as she pulled into the driveway. I got out of the car, unsure whether I should thank her for giving me a ride, when to my surprise she got out too. I stared at here in shock, “You’re coming in?”

“Yes,”she said abruptly. “But…but.. You can’t!” I stammered out. “I can’t?” she questioned snarkily, “or you don’t want me to?”

“No, it’s just that it’s so late and Papa will be asleep,” I cried out. “Then you can wake him up,” she declared determinedly, striding up to the back door.

“But it’s so late and he hates being disturbed at night. Plus he has to wake up very early for work and I’d hate to disturb him,” I stalled. “I’m coming in! Your father needs to know what you’re up to,” she declared stubbornly.

Oh, so this is how she wanted to play. Perfect! stubbornness was my homeground. I’d never met anyone who could outdo me in that field. This was my turf.

So I lifted my chin, stared her straight in the eye and declared, “No!”

Stupefied, she just stared back at me for a few moments. She seemed to get her bearings back after that and commanded firmly, “Haalah, I’m coming in and I’m going to explain to your father what you’ve been up to.”

My annoyance levels rose and rose, I hated when people spoke to me like I was a child. I was not going to bow to this… this stupid interfering lady who couldn’t mind her own business. I folded my arms defensively over my chest, “Fine! Come in, but you’ll have to wake him up yourself. I have no problems in pointing out Papa’s bedroom to you.”

“Haalah, stop it. Stop acting so immature,” she rebuked. “Yeah, well stop poking your nose where it’s not wanted,” I sneered, mockingly. “I’m dead serious, If you want to talk to him now, you’ll have to wake him up yourself. Nothing you say or do will convince me otherwise. If you don’t want to do it, then I advise you to just go home.”

“Haalah,” she scolded. Unbothered, I repeated my words, then turned around and went into the house. As I expected, she didn’t follow. A tiny smile played at my lips, I knew she wouldn’t do it. I mean, which self-respecting niqaabi would go into a strange man’s bedroom and wake him up.

Peeping out the window when I reached my room, I noticed receding headlights and couldn’t help but smile. stubbornness did the job everytime!

Now I just had to phone Amy and find out why the heck did they ditch me like that, before I could hit the sack and call it a day.

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