Jamal's POV
On the sidewalk, Methis walked angrily away as I followed from behind running after her. Beside us is a huge brown brick apartment building and a fire hydrant.
"Come on Methis, calm down," I said as I ran after and held her by the hand.
"Get your freaking paws off me!" she yelled at me as she yanked her hand out of my grasp, "Don't you dare touch me again," she threatened with her index finger pointed at me.
"Come on Meth, I can explain," I said to her, "Just hear me out for a bit," I pleaded.
"No, get away from me," she replied taking a step back as I took a step closer to her, "I can't believe I ever trusted you," she said, "I thought I had finally figured you out. I thought you were different from how you acted on the outside. But I guess I was wrong," she added with tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Methis, please," I pleaded further, "It's not what you think," I explained.
"Save it please!" she yelled, "I don't wanna hear it. I was a fool for ever believing that you could change," she insisted. I was about to say something when she interjected, "No, just leave me alone for now. I need to think," she said before walking out on me.
I sighed as I watched her, as her footsteps faded into the distance. Dejected, I went back to my car and drove off. I just couldn't get why she was so difficult to understand. One minute I think I've figured her out and the next minute, bam! She's like a totally different book.
Autumn's POV
"Hey, Autumn," Summer called out to me, interrupting my reading. I'm guessing by this time she was now probably sick of playing alone with her harem of Barbie dolls.
"Yes?" I answered as I took my gaze off the book and at her.
"Do you think mummy is gonna come back?" she asked, "I think she likes me," she said while smiling in a cute but slightly eccentric way.
"I can't really tell if she's gonna come back. She didn't seem too keen on it from what I saw at the restaurant," I replied, "and as for whether she likes you, what makes you think that?" I asked her.
"Well, she called me sweetie," she bragged with her head lifted up haughtily. I wanted to tell her how that was actually what any one would call her but decided not to burst her bubble.
"Oh yeah, I remember," I said, playing along, "You're so lucky," I added acting a bit jealous.
"Don't worry, you'll get your turn," she confidently assured me, "I'm sure she likes you but she probably doesn't know how to express it, since y'know? You're a guy and all," she said while twisting her hair.
"And how exactly does that relate to her not liking me?" I asked, this time genuinely surprised by her incredible powers of inference.
"Are you for real?" she asked me with her eyes widened and her palms on her cheeks as she dropped her jaw in surprise. It was quite funny that R's sound so much like W's.
"Yeah," I replied, "Is it wrong for me to ask?" I asked.
"Urrghh!" she groaned throwing her head backward as if in deep frustration. "I can't believe you don't know something so simple," she said to me, "Don't you know that girls don't like boys?" she asked. I was just plain dumbfounded on hearing that.
"I don't get it," I said genuinely perplexed, "How does that even relate to mom not liking me?" I asked.
"Well it's simple," she said confidently, "Mom is a girl and you are a boy, so she don’t like you," she explained. Again her use of don't in place of doesn't was also quite hilarious.
"But I'm her son," I said, "Doesn't that count?" I asked.
"No it doesn't," she replied, hell-bent on emphasizing that mom only likes her, which frankly I doubt. "Look over there," she said, pointing at the series of dolls she had sat around a table in the name of a so-called tea-party – which never had any tea by the way.
"Yeah, what's wrong with them," I asked as I turned to the side to take a look.
"You see that one in a tuxedo?" she asked.
"Yeah, I see him. Why?" I responded.
"That's Mr. Tabletop" she said.
"Mr. Tabletop?" I asked, "As in the Mr. Tabletop? The one who you always complain about that appears in your dreams and steals all the cupcakes?" I asked. I was surprised it even had a physical body. She would spend entire mornings telling me this and that about the elusive Mr. Tabletop and I would have to go through the ordeal listening as dad was always really busy. I always thought Mr. Tabletop was some figment of her imagination. To think it was just her toy the whole time!
"Uhun," she replied, nodding her head in approval.
"Oh god," I exclaimed, smacking my forehead with my palm in utter disappointment.
"What is it?" she asked in a concerned tone.
"Don't worry, it's nothing," I replied, "Continue what you were saying," I said.
"Yes, like I was saying," she resumed as though she was trying to mimic our teacher, "Mr. Tabletop is a boy and happens to be the only boy among all my dolls and that's precisely the reason why I don't like him," she explained.
"I don't understand," I said, "Wait, so you think that's the so-called reason mom doesn't like me?" I asked, a bit surprised at how such faulty logic could be communicated with such pride.
"Yes, boys are rough and don't care much for class," she said, "Meanwhile, girls are gentle and elegant. So I guess it's quite clear why girls don't like boys, now isn't it?" she asked. I was just at a loss for words.
"Yup, it is," I said rolling my eyes, without her noticing.
"Good," she said, " now get back to what you were doing before, I've got a tea party to attend," she said and then walked away from the bed and towards the parliament of dolls she had stashed in the corner. Not knowing what else to say, I simply resumed reading from where I had left off.