58. Ugly Mother Father

**Emara Stone**

I let my hair loose as I walk on the streets where all motherfuckers had walked. That is my college.
I order a hazelnut frappe and like a blind horse, I walk straight to the corner table of the cafeteria, which has only one chair.
*Mine.*
Peace is the only cheese I would fight for.
As if the Gods heard my prayers, the noise in the canteen hushes down to almost a silence. Except the ascending footsteps.
My eyeballs shift to the intruders and my chest thumps loudly as my hazel eyes collide with whiskey brooding eyes gazing at me.
Ryan and his minions walk in the canteen, conquering everyone’s attention. His eyes don’t let me go as he sits across from me at the other end of the hall, like two opponents on a chessboard.
It’s been four days since that fight date he took me to. We didn’t talk or see each other since then. No exchange of messages or eye-contact either.
My desperation ogles his freshly shaved beard and I imagine smelling his musky aftershave. That jaw, sharp like an axe, itches me for a lick. And I lick my lips.
Ryan breaks the intense eye contact and begins to nonchalantly discuss with his bitches, Shawn and Mendes. I bite my tongue and turn my head away from him.
Ignorance hits harder than a slap.
I open Instagram and look at that unseen ‘Hey’ message I had sent to the Avoiding Prince of Rudeness this morning, which he didn’t even care to open.
I feel like an idiot, like a clown with red nose as I wait for some attention like a desperate fan girl. *Stupid bitch!*
I keep my head low, smelling my coffee when I hear the annoying wood scraping noise that shrieks even my soul. My skull reverses and I see Daniel dragging a chair across the hall and stopping it right beside mine as he asks, “Is this seat taken?”
I control my lips edges as they fight to curve up in a smile and I shake my head in amusement. Daniel casually slides on the chair, which he brought from the other corner of the room, asking, “Amy didn’t come today?”
*Its Ana, not Amy.*
I shake my head as I sip my coffee. I steal a glance at Ryan, who is busy checking his phone and turn my attention at the toilet paper beside me. The mountains of his biceps change its shape as he fingers his blue hair, setting it in left-right, north-east, and north-west direction.
Daniel’s eyes meet mine and a sinful glint plays in it, “Babe, are you undressing me with your eyes?”
I would rather lick poison than watching his pee-pee.
I roll my eyes and keep them away from the butt licker as I hear him chuckle, “You look extra pretty today. What did you do, plastic surgery?”
*Can’t people see I am broke?*
“No, I showered.” I tell the ass crack and he leans on to me. Daniel digs his snout in my hair and takes a deep sniff as if he found cocaine in it and moans, “Peach shampoo.”
I stare at him with the most ugliest face and wonder what went wrong with him in the hospital while delivery. Did some part of his brain was left inside the womb or someone took it out coz he was too fat?
I seriously want to know in which position did his parents conceive him so I can avoid that.
“Ask.” A cool command.
“Why are you like this? And how?” I throw my hands up as I question him the mystery.
Daniel marinate his lips with tongue before saying, “If you reach my level of psychoticism and don’t visit your psychiatrist though he calls you every weekend for appointment. This is what you become.”
I gulp my saliva instead of coffee as I stare at his cheshire smile that kind of haunts me. Even the souls of Hell would fear of him for his return.
“So, how long have you been ignoring your psychiatrist?” I ask him out of the curiosity.
“Three years.”
Ahh! There is no hope for this nutcase.
“Daniel!”
I turn around at his thick voice as if he called me. Ryan’s eyes meet mine for a second then shift to his puppy as he actions him to leave.
Something pokes in my chest like a needle and I shrink in my chair. *Is he really-really ignoring me?*
“Hey, chica. Can you do me a favour?” Daniel stands up as Ryan and his bitches exit the canteen, sparing no glance at me.
In an instance, Daniel leans down and plants a quick wet kiss on my lips saying, “Give this kiss to Ana and tell her I missed her.” Did he just-Did he?
*This ugly mother-father!!*
. . .
I drag myself to home. Feeling exhausted, hungry, and not so sexy. I open the Instagram and look at the DM I had sent Ryan; Seen three hours ago.
*Fuck you arrogant butt dick!*
I throw my phone and binge watch Rick and Morty, have dinner, write another chapter of my book and strip down to just a tee as I lay on my bed and again check the message I had sent him.
*Seen seven hours ago.*
I release a deep breath of sardonic sadness and click on his profile and watch his majestic pictures. Zooming it on his eyes that appear dark, like the gate to hell.
“What the fuck you staring at me, huh?” I squint at the picture of him and snarl. “You look like an idiot. An idiot loaf of stupid bread.” I practice my curses at him.
“You great gangly fuck-knuckled twat. You fuck-o-maniac! You peanut-”
*Buzz*
“Ahh!” The phone slips from my paws and head bangs me as soon as I see his notification. Ryan messaged me,
*‘Come down.’*
A cold command that freezes me.
Come down? As in come down of my imaginary world or literally come down? But why? I type in return,
*‘What do you mean?’*
I bite my lip in anticipation, fear shake my fingers as I wait for his reply. One minute-two-three. My phone buzzes. A shiver runs through my spine. I stand up, taking my throbbing heart and walk to my window to confirm my terror.
A gasp of terror releases from my breath as I see a black colour SUV car, parked in the shadows of my street and I read his message again.
*‘If you want your book back. Come down.’*