ZEIN
"Are you not going to talk to me all weekend then?"
I drop the bags by the foot of the bed and turn to look at the person who is currently not even looking at me. Anger, disappointment, or just tired of my bullshit, I don't know.
"You are such a dickhead, I swear," she clicks, shaking her head, back still turned as she looks at the empty closet.
So angry?
"This is supposed to be a relaxing weekend, minah, why are you already ready to tear me up and we haven't even lasted two seconds here? You haven't even spoken to me the whole ride here."
"Oh, I know, I was there," she rolls her eyes before crossing her arms. "But I won't relax until I tell you how much of dickhead you are, because clearly, no one is telling you."
"What did I do?" I sound like a petulant child, but I don't care.
"What didn't you do?!" she half yells. "I was so close to punching you in your face that day that the feeling is still there, the longer I look at your stupid face."
