Enigmatic Girl

Chapter-1 :. The rude girl

"Hey there! Sammy, the human blur, slow down a bit, will you? Shaisha! Can you kindly halt your ninja moves, or I swear I won't exchange a single word with you!" Jasmine's words echoed, punctuated by her labored breaths as she raced to catch up.

With an arched eyebrow and a wry smile, I greeted her, "Hey Jazzy! How are you?" There was no need to act polite; we both knew the score. She was missing her phone, and I was the prime suspect.

"Don't pull that polite act, Sammy. I know you've got my phone. And if you want to keep your mysterious aura intact, then return it. Now," Jazzy declared, her tone a mix of annoyance and determination.

"But that's not fair, Jazzy! I'm your partner in crime, your confidante. Are you really resorting to blackmail? Fine, I'll give your phone back, but promise me you'll delete that photoshopped masterpiece of me with the so-called badass... whoever he is. Deal?" I negotiated with my dearest friend, emphasizing the playfulness in our banter.

Jazzy, with a pout, retorted, "Blackmailing me now, are we?"

"Well, call it a fair exchange – blackmail for a blackmail."

"Fine! I'll delete it. Now hand it over."

Shaisha, aka Sammy's Inner Musings:

Ah, Jazzy! Why must you always resort to blackmail?

"Because, my dear friend, you're a walking enigma, and the less people know about you, the more I can make you do things you'd rather not," she grinned, revealing her unapologetically selfish side.

The school corridor became a stage, and I the protagonist, as greetings and fist bumps came at me from every direction.

"Sammy! I've got a burning question," Jazzy chimed in.

Go on, shoot.

"Why the secrecy? Why not let the world in on the fabulous mystery that is Shaisha Cahill?" she queried.

"Honestly, Jazzy, even I'm not sure who I am yet. Still a work in progress."

"But Shaisha Cahill, my friend, you're a force to be reckoned with. The world deserves to know, at least the world within these school walls," she insisted.

"People will find out when the time is right. Let's not dwell on this for now."

"Hey Jason! How's it going?" Jazzy squealed in excitement. Jason, another member of our quirky gang of seven, received a wave and a small smile from me. After brief hugs and pleasantries, we found ourselves in the midst of a recount of our latest skirmish.

"Sammy, you good?" Jason's question pierced through my contemplative haze.

I snapped back to the present, his fingers clicking in front of my eyes. "What's the closed book up to now?" he teased. I retaliated with a playful slap, a typical response to being called a 'closed book'—my gang's affectionate nickname for my somewhat mysterious demeanor.

Shrugging off their inquiries, I deflected, "Just pondering Jazzy's words from earlier."

"What on earth did I say that's got you in a pondering mood?" Jazzy quizzed.

"That I apparently have no haters in this entire school. How can that be true?" I pondered aloud.

"Ever think you might be overthinking it?" they chimed in unison, a well-practiced duo.

"Enough introspection for now. Let's head home," Jason suggested, leading us to his car, our usual mode of transportation given our close proximity.

As we settled into the car, I posed a question, "Guys, a serious one this time."

"Shoot," Jason replied, with Jazzy nodding in agreement.

"I can be quite the handful—rude, arrogant, egoistic. I've said things, ranted even. Yet, you both handle it with a level of patience I can't fathom. Grateful as I am, where do you find that reservoir of patience?" The question, a long-time resident in my thoughts, finally escaped my lips.

The traffic light halted our journey, and the car became a confessional. Facing me, they took turns unraveling their perspective.

"Sammy, you're our ride-or-die, the friend we wouldn't trade for the world. When you let loose with the attitude, we see past it. We know it's not the real you, and those hurtful words? We've seen you regret them in the quiet corners of your room. You're a unique soul, and we're here for you. Plus, people like you for who you are, not just the tough exterior," Jazzy confessed.

"And Jazzy's right. Your sweetness and politeness overshadow the rudeness. You've got a cool gang and a school that appreciates you. So, chill, Sammy," Jason added.

"Btw (by the way), Jazz and Sam, late again today. What's the story?" Jason shifted gears, injecting a light-hearted tone into the conversation.

"Um... We had a chat with Mr. Anderson about next week's test, and I got caught in the crossfire of the school's badass squad," Jazzy interjected.

Trapped unwittingly, I mumbled, rolling my eyes.

"So, we were fashionably late due to my unexpected encounter," Jazzy concluded.

Laughter erupted from Jason, contagious and hearty. "What's so amusing?" I inquired.

"Nothing... sorry," he managed between laughs.

"I suppose everyone's eagerly waiting for our grand entrance," Jazzy remarked.

"Blame Sammy for the delay," Jason teased.

Rolling my eyes at their banter, I couldn't resist a sudden outburst. "Wait! Wait! Wait!"

Braking abruptly, Jason prepared for a barrage of questions. Instead, I dashed to the ice-cream parlor across the street, emerging with an assortment of flavors as I hopped back into the car.

"Late, so I'm making amends. Here's ice cream for the gods—or in this case, for you two," I declared.

"Aww, you're a lifesaver, Sammy!" Jason exclaimed.

"Don't get too cheesy, Jason," I retorted, rolling my eyes.

"Sammy, sometimes I wonder if you're the same Shaisha Cahill—the sweet one, not the rude enigma," Jazzy pondered aloud.

As the car roared back to life, I couldn't help but smile. Maybe, just maybe, they saw a side of me I often doubted existed.

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So this is the end of first chapter.
Hey guys!
This is the first time I m writing a story. Hope you will like it.
Please let me know your thoughts.
Do comment and vote.
Help me with your ideas.

Thank you!💜
And please forgive me for the errors.