(Anj’s POV)

 

“You should have taken medicine, Angela,” Sister Grace said, her index finger holding my chin as if balancing my face. As of my count, she sighed three times already just from studying my face.

 

Dylan and I had to hurry to take the blankets from the clothesline outside because the cluster of clouds covered the perfect blue sky, hiding the sun and promising a thunderstorm. We reached the porch just in time for clouds to shower their tears on the ground, but before I could hide from Sister Grace, she had already opened the door and seen us.

 

“I’m fine,” I whispered, glancing at Dylan, suppressing a smile on his pressed lips. My eyes narrowed as I watched him continue our work. “Does my hideous face bother you, Sister?” I asked, showing a playful smile at her.

 

She scoffed at me, placing her hand on my hair, brushing off the strands on my puffy face to the side, and putting on my blue peacock hair clip.

 

“Yes and no. Yes, I am bothered, but you’re not hideous,” she said as she placed her hands on my shoulders. The door opened, and Mrs. Antonetta, the culprit, gasped as she saw me.

 

“Who is this ugly girl, Sister Grace?” The eighty-year-old nursing home resident asked, tilting her head from side to side as she tried to recognize me.

 

Dylan could not help himself roaring with laughter upon hearing Mrs. Antonetta. He shook his head, glancing at me again, winking, and mouthing, ‘Don’t believe her. You’re still beautiful.” I felt the heat on my cheeks, blushing as he gazed at me.

 

“Good morning, Mrs. Antonetta!” I greeted her as I helped her step onto the porch, and it was also my opportunity to pretend not to mind Dylan.

 

“Oh… but you sounded like Angela,” she said, still looking at my face as she sat on the wooden bench.

 

“Because I am Angela,” I answered, walking toward Dylan and punching him in his arm. “I hate you,” I said, frowning at him before taking the book in my bag, but he only laughed at me.

 

“What happened to you? You can’t go to a party like that,” she said, adjusting her eyeglasses as I handed her the book she reads daily.

 

Sister Grace only looked at me, not saying anything.  I know that face, a look that she is still undecided whether to allow me to go or not. With my face now, I would rather not go and sulk in my room later.

 

I went back to Dylan’s side, helping him fold the other

 

right? People coming to this

 

corrected, hoping I was

 

poor girl go to the party.” She

 

convenience store later tonight,” he answered, glancing at

 

wasting your youth. When I was your age, I would go to every party and enjoy my life,” she smiled at me, leaning her head toward me to whisper. “And make out to interesting guys. Do you have a

 

my head,

 

curiously. “What are you doing at that university? Just study? Are there no gorgeous guys in that place?” Although we knew she wasn’t, her eyes were round, pretending to

 

my hair. I hissed at him, hating him whenever he did it to me. “Not only she’s young, but every guy is intimidated by her intelligence,” he explained as he leaned on the railing of the porch, crossing his arms to his chest

 

forgetting that your brain is bigger than your head,” she grinned at Dylan, her eyes flickered toward me. “You have to hurry to guard this young lady here. She might be taken away by her alien family. They might realize they’re losing one of their

 

pursed my lips but curved a smile when I saw Sister Grace rolling her eyes

 

 

eighteen,” My legal guardian cut in, but Mrs. Antonietta only laughed

 

All she did was pray, serve, and work here,”

 

picking up the blankets Dylan had already folded

 

eyes on her. “I always forget that. Come on, Sister Grace, give this poor girl a break. Let her brain

 

said, kissing the top of my head. “You can go, but you must bring Mrs. Wilbur the flowers for the

 

make sure I heard her right. When he nodded, I pressed my

 

about to enter the door when I called Sister Grace. “Why?” I asked her, suddenly suspicious and curious about

 

of party is not for you, and

 

You have nothing to worry about with our little Angel here,” interrupted Mrs. Antonetta. “With that face,

 

for the kind words, Mrs. Antonetta,” I said, hiding the sarcasm in my words. “But I was hoping to

 

gesturing her hand and telling me to come closer. I walked to her side, sat on the couch, and then waggled my eyebrows at Dylan, which

 

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