Classy Lil Hoe

O•N•E

^Outfit^

1: A Very Special Welcome Back.

∆Alexia Hepburn∆

Silence. That's all I heard. Numbness. That's all I felt. My world shattering to pieces, and my head spinning at an incredible rate.

Mr. Arthur has just told me my parents have died in a tragic plane crash in Berlin; over the phone.

Letting the house phone drop to the dark wooden floor, making a dramatic thud, my mouth fell agape.

Where am I gonna live? Who would wanna take me in? What's gonna happen to me?

Those are some of the thoughts that ran through my mind.

After that dreaded, and life ruining, phone call, I sat on my queen sized bed, staring blankly at the navy wall ahead of me.

A sudden ring of the doorbell disrupted the consumption of dark and sad thoughts running through my spinning mind.

I slowly blinked, and heard the doorbell once more.

I slowly stood, going down the ladder from the attic, to the front door.

Upon opening the black door, I was greeted by my best friend, Jughead.

"Peaches! I just heard what happened to your parents. Are you okay?" He ushered, as he walked in, and closed the door with his foot.

We sat on the beige sofa, as I explained what Mr. Arthur told me.

He sighed as I finished, and hugged me tightly.

"Where are..... Where are you gonna live?" He wondered, curiously.

I stared blankly at the, light gray, wall and shrugged.

"I don't.... Know." I stated, emotionless.

He furrowed his brows, and looked off to the side for about five minutes, when he looked at me once again.

"You can come live with FP and I. He won't mind. You practically lived with us as kids." He offered.

I softly bit my bottom lip, and furrowed my brows. Is it really a good idea?

"Are you sure?" I wondered looking into the familiar blue eyes of my best friend.

"Yeah. Of course. We can go ask him. He's at the Wyrm." Jug stated, smiling slightly.

I looked at a small burn in the old, battered, couch. I remember my dad dropping his cigarette when he was laughing too hard at a joke in a movie.

"Alright..." I gave in, smiling slightly.

"Ok, put your shoes on, I'll get the keys, and the helmets." He grabbed my shoulder lovingly.

I sighed and nodded, going to my art room down the hall, to get my black combat boots.

I was wearing a soft yellow, tight, crop top with some light blue short shorts that flattered my arse.

Going back into the hall to the front door, Jughead was standing there, with a helmet on his head and another in his hand with my keys.

We walked out the small house, locking the door, and going to the dirt driveway where my seperate garage was.

Inside was everything I've ever bought for fixing cars and bikes. I've spent over 10,000$ on equipment. But my prized possession was my bike itself.