The woman’s eyes were reduced into twin dark slits as she surveyed his face looming above her. Gio felt the subtle tug of amusement but he kept it down. This isn’t the time.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” he asked, loosening his grip on her. She quickly caught on, distancing herself from him the moment she got the chance. His eyes fell on the display behind her. Ducking like a scared cat, she jumped out of his way when he took a step forward and reached out. His father is a little sensitive about his collection. One car was out of it’s proper place.

“M-Me?” her eyes grew like discs. “I don’t think I have anything to say to you.” The tigress, or shall he say kitten, is back.

“What about thank you Mr. Kwon? Or have you lost your manners when you hit your head?”

immediately clamped shut, setting it in a thin line. Gio raised one eyebrow, challenging her. If there’s one thing he noticed about the girl was, she’s proud. So much like himself.

“T-Thank y-you.” Her voice was one stop short of a whisper.

Gio leaned in, intent on making her repeat herself. “You were saying?”

A gust of cinnamon wafted when she blew air through parted lips. Her annoyance was plain in her features. “Thank you,” she said in a clear voice, “Mr. Kwon.”

Satisfied, Gio stepped back, arms behind his back. “Okay. You may go now.” He then made shooing gestures with his left hand.

Suddenly, an overwhelming urge to retaliate swamped Sandy. In an instant, she was in front of him. The look in her eyes startled him when she started moving, trying to get closer to him. He answered her advancing steps with retreating ones. He was half-aware when his thigh made contact with something solid. One arm shot to his left, trapping him between the scary looking woman-child and his father’s beast of a table.

“H-Hey, what do you think y-you’re d-doing?” he stammered. His tongue seemed to be glued to the roof of his mouth, completing a sentence proved to be an inhumane feat.

A notepad and a pen appeared in his line of vision. “Your account number,” she said.

“Eh?”

“Did your brain turned into mush?” she sneered, “write your account number, I can pay my own hospital bills.”

Gio complied with a too-quick smile on his face. In a few , he wrote down his bank account number. Sandy snatched the pad from him as soon as he finished.

“Thanks.” She tucked the slip of paper in the back pocket of her jeans. “Now, we’re even. And I would really appreciate it if we’ll never see each other again, be it deliberate or an accident.” Sandy stormed off. He flinched as she slammed the door shut. Lying face down on his father’s table was the calling card he left for her.

Sandy was still fuming when she and Bommie got off the cab. The ride home was spent on her ranting while Bommie was munching on her corn cob, offering grunts and occasional nods as a response. She had no idea where did Bommie got her corn, she was too mad to care anyway.

“Hey, you should rest. Doctor’s orders, remember? Forget about the stress that was Mr. Kwon.” Bommie dumped her bags on the floor. Barefooted, she sashayed her way to the open kitchen to drop her now empty corn cob on the trash bin.

Sandy heaved a deep sigh, plopping on the soft folds of the sofa. The leather was cool to the touch. It gave her a momentary respite from her churning thoughts. Her blue hair hang limp like overcooked spaghetti.

“What am I supposed to do with the idle days aka rest?” she complained to the white ceiling.

“Get yourself into a self-induced computer game comma?”

“Oh god no. My eyes would fall from their sockets if I do.”

“You have stacks and stacks of unread books in your room. It’s about time to give them love. They’re collecting too much dust, enough to plant a bed of cucumber,” Bommie quipped.

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“Don’t mention it. Now, I’ll go get a shower, I badly needed one.” Bommie grimaced.

“You do that,” Sandy agreed. She paused then looked at Bommie, “I think I’ll go see Nana. Is that alright?”

“You want me to come with you?”

Sandy shook her head. “No need. I promise I’m feeling a hundred percent fine.”

“Alright.”

While Bommie was in the shower, Sandy went into her room to get ready. After twenty minutes, they both came out of their rooms exactly at the same time. Bommie was on her sleeveless tank top and shorts, displaying her mile-long legs, pink toes and heels peeking through her fluffy yellow slippers. Sandy had chosen a pl