Jesus is Lord! If anyone had told me early this month that I would write extra chapters on Caged this year, I would have slapped that person 😂
I really can't believe I wrote an extra chapter and this is due to you all. Your comments and pleas kept bugging me to the point I couldn't bear it anymore.

Dedicated to WendyOpurum212 (no 1 promoter of Caged).
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I was sitting together with Peter on the rooftop of our school's building, watching him solve some of the questions I had set aside from my past question.

Our external examination was around the corner and I had been helping Peter in every possible way I could in subjects I knew he found difficult: calculations in particular.  Though the library was free, Peter said he liked it here and I did too. It was mostly just us each time we came here.

I glanced at Peter and bit my lips to avoid laughing. It was rare to see him looking so serious and I took the opportunity to take in his features.

His eyes were narrowed in concentration and his fingers were in his mouth as he bit the tip. As I stared at him, my hands itched to run my fingers through his full hair which was barbed in a beautiful neat hair cut. I wondered if he would like me running my fingers through his hair.

I had always read in books that you would never know until you try,  but I was too scared to try. I didn't want to do anything that would offend Peter.  It didn't even help that I couldn't draft out plans on how to execute this.

Would it be obvious if I leaned forward, brushing my fingertips through the thick curls in the pretence of getting something off his head?

The more I thought of it, the more my fingers itched. I shook my head like doing so would help me out of my predicament and intertwined my fingers to stop myself from doing anything stupid as I tore my eyes away from Peter and his tempting features.

I shifted my gaze to the sky, staring at the beautiful blue element hanging in the air.  The insatiable hunger to reach out and touch it, consumed me as I stared intently at the magical creation.

Thoughts of all my mother had told me the previous day flooded into my memory as I took in the beauty of nature.

It was true I wanted to see my father.  Heck! I deserved to see him but I was nervous and worried. It felt like what I had been so sure of was now ambiguous and bleak; I didn't know what I wanted anymore. 

Sickening thoughts had been filling my head ever since my mum told me we would go to see my father and his parents this upcoming Saturday. 

Would he like me? Would he reject me just as my robust stepfather had done — and was still doing? He had acted so cold the last time I had spent the weekend with them. It felt like he was disgusted by my mere presence.  Would my dad feel the same? His parents had not wanted me. What was the possibility they would now?

I wished to see the man that birth me but I wasn't sure I could bear his rejection.  Perhaps, I should back down and forget about the whole issue; I should just let everyone be, after all, my life was perfect: I had Peter, my mum was there for me, grandma was now understanding, I could talk and laugh freely with everyone. . . Weren't these what made life perfect?

I was jolted from my reverie by a slight nudge on my elbow and I turned to see Peter staring at me intently with his palm under his chin and elbow resting on his lap.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" He questioned. His pen was behind his ear and I wondered why he left it there.

"Mmm?" I gaped.

"What's on your mind?" He rephrased and I shook my head.

"Nothing."

"That's not true." Peter closed the past question and folded his arms, now facing me fully. "I'm listening."

I sighed heavily. If there was anything I was sure about Peter, it was his tenacity and inability to back down when his interest had been piqued.  I knew he would bug me till I spilt everything out.

"I was just thinking about what my mum said the last time she came visiting." I gazed at my fingers on my laps.

"About seeing your father?" Peter asked and I nodded.

"She said we'll be going to meet his parents on Saturday."

"That's good news!" Peter's eyes lighted up. "Why are you so worried?"

I let out another sigh. "It's just.  . .I don't know.  . .what if he doesn't want me?" I could feel my eyes welling up and I was embarrassed by my stupidity.

"That can't be possible." Peter held my hands in his. "No one will reject a rare gem like you."

"My stepfather did." I huffed. "My father's parents did."

"I wasn't done speaking.  I didn't complete my statement." Peter raised a brow. "No one will reject a rare gem like you unless they are psychos." He smirked and I chuckled, slapping him by the shoulder lightly.

"So you mean my grandparents and stepfather are psychos?" I asked, greatly amused.

"Never said such," he threw me his contagious smile and I blushed; my eyes fixated on my laps.

"Look here!" He placed a finger under my chin and forced me to look at him which I tried to but failed miserably.  His intense gaze was like a bright light and I felt blinded by it.

"You're very precious. It is to the detriment of anyone that doesn't acknowledge this and I feel sorry for them. From all that you've told me about your father,  I know he is a good man and he will never reject you. Mark my words, he'll be very glad to be your father."

Peter sounded so sure like he had communicated with my father behind my back and I believed every bit of what he had said because it was Peter who said those words.  Just like the scriptures, I believed because he said it.

"Okay?" He stared deeply into my eyes and I could see my reflection on his brown pupils. I was mesmerized by his loving gaze and all I could do was nod, scared I would croak rather than speak. 

"Besides," his fingers dropped from my chin and I internally groaned as the spot his fingers had been, ached for his touch. "Don't you think it's better.  . .you know,  to see him after our exams? I don't want anything affecting you."

"That's the exact thing my mum said but I want to see him now. I guess curiosity will kill me if I don't." I sighed and rubbed my forehead wearily.

"Okay then. I've got you." Peter placed his hand on mine and grinned broadly.

Trying to avoid his eyes, I stared at his notebook and my jaw dropped.

"Peter! How did you arrive at all these answers?" I questioned.  "Where are your workings?"

Peter averted his eyes as he groaned and scratched his head. "I calculated the questions in my head."

I gaped at him, "You solved all these mathematical questions in your head?"

"Well. . ." He trailed off. "Why the sudden change of topic? We were talking about your father just now." Peter furrowed his brow and I almost laughed.

"Peter! Did you check the answers at the back?" I was amused.

"Beatrice, leave me alone." He dragged the book from my hand as I cracked up, laughing uncontrollably.

"Here." He opened his palms. "I did some workings here."

True, he did but I just couldn't stop laughing as I looked at him. He rolled his eyes, making me laugh harder as I felt giddy inside.