07 | A Little Retail Therapy

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"So don't worry 'bout tomorrow,
Take it today.
Forget about the cheque,
We'll get hell to pay.
Have a drink on me!" 

MY EYES NEARLY fell out of my sockets as I took in the magnificent sight before me. Four sleek, expensive cars idled at the front of the school entrance, surrounded by a small herd of excited students. Asher was leaning against the side of the third car, a beautiful jet-black Porsche Spyder, looking as impatient as ever. It was like an invisible rain cloud constantly hovered over him. He waved us over, and shot me a glare that I was starting to become worryingly used to.

Well hello to you too, dickwad.

"Emily's riding with me. Go pick one of the cars, we'll meet you guys at the mall," he stated bluntly before walking over to the passenger side of his car, opening the door for Emily like a gentleman. If glares could kill, Emily would probably be six foot under by now, murdered by the jealous Royals-crazed girls surrounding us. Emily seemed to notice this, and quickly slipped into the passenger seat with a face as red as a tomato.

My eyes twinkled brightly with excitement as I eyed the other three cars, all of which had tinted windows. My jaws nearly dropped as I spotted a navy blue Bugatti, the very first car in the line. As my eyes traveled past the beauties, a classy grey Aston Martin and a flashy matte green Ferrari.

Squealing internally, I practically skipped towards the sparkling Bugatti, opening the door carefully and sliding in.

"Oh-my-gosh-this-is-so-awesome!" I whispered to myself excitedly the moment I closed the car door. Gingerly, I let my curious fingers run down the smooth leather of the seat, almost shitting bricks at how soft it was. It even has that new car smell!

I glanced to the side, and after realising the driver was none than Robin Oswald Clair, my excitement deflated almost immediately and a small frown replaced my grin. Cocking an eyebrow, Robin wordlessly started his car and the engine purred to life.

Even though Robin's a jerk, I can't deny that he has amazing taste in cars, I thought, looking around the interior of the car in amazement and wonder.

"You're quiet," he commented softly, his eyes never straying from the road.

I shrugged, glancing at him. "I thought you and your friends prefer it when I don't talk."

I tried my hardest to sound indifferent and not let the underlying tone of irritation slip into my words. After all, I was in the same car as the guy that had ditched me without having the decency to let me know in advance. No big deal.

"Hmm," he hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing to what I had said. My eye involuntarily twitched. Was that all he had to say? I am going to murder him in his sleep!

"Do you have any music?" I asked after the silence in the small car was too much for me to bear. Robin nodded, leaning over to open the glove compartment in front of my seat. Inside was a neat pile of CDs and from the look of the familiar titles, it seemed like he had good taste in music too.

"Take your pick," he said in a bored tone. I grabbed a couple of CDs out of the glove compartment, flipping through them.

"AC/DC, Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin," I murmured under my breath. "Huh. Didn't take you for someone that listens to rock music."

"Oh," he replied, although he sounded as if he was merely trying to be polite. There was an awkward silence, and then he sighed and asked, "What kind of music do I look like I listen to?"

"Screaming children, probably. Or maybe whale mating-calls," I replied cheekily, only for him to scowl at me.

"Just pick a disc," he grumbled, and I picked an old classic and popped it into the CD player.

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