XXIX

When the two were only just a few more steps away from Laia's house, the asshat's phone rang loudly.

Grumbling, he motioned Laia to give him space with a wave of his hand. Laia was happy to oblige, immediately making her way inside of her house.

As she entered her house, she was welcomed by the delicious smell that came from the meal her mother was preparing.

"Laia? Samuel?" Her mother calls from the kitchen.

Laia saunters towards the kitchen door. "He's outside,"

The older woman turns to her daughter with a frown. "Did you have another argument?"

"Nah," Laia shakes her head. "Someone called him. Maybe his rich ass parents--"

"Laia!"

"What?" The girl nonchalantly glances at her mother's deepening frown. "Anyway, I think the soup's cooked already, mom."

Squeaking in surprise, the older woman turns back to what she was cooking, and just as Laia expected, it was already cooked and a few more minutes it would have had burned.