Jasmine relied on her "madness" to destroy things without consequence, knowing people wouldn't argue with a fool. But the blowback always fell on me.
What should have been a simple scolding would turn into a beating and a massive debt because of her unreasonable escalation.
Sure enough, Landon forced a smile and hugged her tight.
"It's okay. Husband isn't afraid of being scolded."
Then, as if struck by a thought, he pointed a finger at me.
"Oh, right. Jasmine, my brother is sick. Do you remember him? Say hello."
Jasmine looked at me coldly. Seeing my haggard state, she clapped her hands and laughed—a manic, grating sound.
"Husband! It serves this bad person right! I hope he dies of sickness!"
She hid behind Landon, making a grotesque face at me.
"Big villain! Drop dead!"
"Sorry, brother—Jasmine is just simple like that. She doesn't hide her likes and dislikes." Landon glanced at me smugly, hugging her close as he turned to leave.
They had barely taken two steps when Caroline Sawyer appeared at the end of the corridor.
She watched their retreating backs before turning to me.
"Family?"
I shook my head.
Caroline scoffed.
"Two fools. A perfect match. Stay away from them—stupidity is contagious."
With a stony face, she shoved a three-tiered, expensive-looking insulated lunch box into my hands.
"Here. The chef made too much. Don't waste it."
At the sight of Caroline Sawyer, the color drained from Landon's face.
He looked back at me, eyes swirling with disbelief and devastation. It wasn't until Jasmine tugged at his sleeve, asking what was wrong, that he gritted his teeth.
"It's nothing. I just think it's ridiculous how some people are merely toys being played with, yet they take themselves so seriously."
He dragged Jasmine away.
From that day on, Caroline brought me food daily.
But as I ate, suspicion grew. For a family as wealthy as the Jiangs, why were the chef's dishes so... home-style? So ordinary?
***
After recovering, I returned to school.
I assumed Caroline and I would return to being parallel lines. Never intersecting again.
I was wrong.
She chose the same electives as me. Joined the same student union department. Even at my part-time job, I would look up to find her lingering nearby.
Finally, I snapped.
"Caroline, what is your game?" I cornered her. "Did I do something wrong?"
Her face darkened. Defensive anger flared.
"You think I'm looking for revenge?"