Daffodil Sprouts🌼

Ch. 39 ' Questions.

"How did it get to your locker? And what was it doing there?"

Natural, Yesmi. It's natural that you're asked these questions. Jason's test sheet was found in your locker, after all, when you were accusing someone else of having it.

I just hope he doesn't expect me to know the answer to those questions. That's when the problem comes in.

We're at Mr Matthew's office. Jason and I. We're seated in the two chairs in front of his desk, Jason to my right. I glance at him, trying to discern what he's thinking; if he believes that I took his test sheet and hid it in my locker.

Why. Would. I Even. Do. That. For what exactly?

I can't tell what he's thinking. I can't even tell if he's thinking. He's staring forward with a bland look on his face, quite neutral. Like he isn't even bothered about all that has gone down.

"Yesm—"

"I don't know, Sir."

Isn't that the obvious answer? Do I even need to say it out loud?

It's just that a guilty person would answer the same way.

But I don't know. I really don't know. At this point, I'm not sure if I know anything at all. I'm not sure my brain is still functioning properly.

I pulled myself into this. Bella threw a wooden torch my way and I ran towards it. Like an idiot.

Will I ever learn?

"You do not know," Mr Matthew says in a questioning tone. His left hand rubs his cheeks stubble as he peers at me.

A few seconds later, he sighs and drops the sheet back on the table.

"Jason, what do you have to say?"

I use that as an excuse to stare at Jason, waiting and nervous at what his answer will be.

I haven't said anything to him since Bella discovered the sheet in my locker. I haven't even been able to say much in general, still reeling from the shock. If I did, if I were at least able to ward off this numb feeling of shock, thousands of words of denial would be rolling out of my mouth. Trying —and failing— to explain that I don't know how his test sheet got into my locker.

What will that achieve anyway?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

"No words."

"You have nothing to say?"

Jason nods, the stoic expression plastered onto his face.

This is the worst answer in the situation since it makes sure I have no idea what's going on in his head.

"Alright." Mr Matthew pushes the sheet forward, from his side to Jason's. "I can't accept this."

I bite on my lower lip as I stare at the sheet. Remorse is climbing to the surface of my emotions when I take note of his handwriting.

I've seen it somewhere.

Probably came across his note at home.

Yeah.

But . . .

I'm taking my head closer to the sheet, peering harder, when it disappears.   

Not exactly. Regaining composure, I come to sight with Jason leaving the office.

I get up as fast as my jittery can let me, dropping an 'excuse me' and hurrying after Jason.