Chapter 11 |Part 1|: You're Gonna Go Far Kid (present)

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(present)


It's been a while.

I stared at my BMW M3, making me think of my blue Range Rover sitting in the garage at the house. Gotta admit, this looked way too fucking badass compared to that one.

Flashes of last year's events suddenly came rushing back to me. Particularly, the game we played at the pier with the lowly dipshits. Despite the fact that we won, somehow we lost every-fucking-thing after that.

I wasn't sure if it had to do with some yin and yang bullshit, but it felt like we lost a helluva lot more than them. Heck, the suckers didn't even have anything to lose.

It fucking pisses me off how easily they got away with it. It pisses me off that we didn't have any proof. And it pisses me off how we had to seek justice on our own.

Actually, no. Scratch that last part. I'd rather we do it ourselves.

Revenge would be more satisfying that way.

"Is that Shade?!"

I turned to my left and saw Alfie running to me in the seniors parking lot. Cars were pulling in from different directions, all hurrying before class started. Alfie excitedly slapped me on the arm, laughing as he stared at my sports car.

Oh, and yeah. We named it 'Shade.'

"I figured he needed a little sun," I shrugged, my arms crossed as I faced him.

"A little?" snorted my best friend, looking at me skeptically. "Dude, he's been rotting in your garage since you and redhead broke up."

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck with a hand. The car held too much memories. Gotta admit, I didn't have the fucking balls to use it for a long while.

"I hoped that wouldn't come up."

"Of course, it would."

"Think the others noticed?"

"Duh. We're not stupid, Oz."

I rubbed my face. "Well, I'm gonna use him again."

I didn't know what changed. I just woke up this morning and felt like getting behind the wheel. I kinda missed it.

"Care to share what brought this on?"

I let out a breath. "I dunno, man. I guess I missed it."

He nodded, a little smirk stretching his lips.

"What?" I asked him, knowing there was something he wasn't telling me.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head.

"Spill it, Alfie."

"It's nothing."

"Dude."

"I swear, it's nothing."

"Alfred."

"God! Fine! I'll tell you, Oswald!"

I rolled my eyes and waited, watching him as he shrugged and smiled. I would pound him later for using my real name out in the open like that.

"I'm just glad -"

"Shaaaaade!"

Connie came running out of nowhere with the biggest smile I've ever seen her wear in years. She dropped her bag on the ground and carefully touched Shade's matte black paint. I taught her how to drive in it. After that summer, she formed a special bond with my car.

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