Royals

Chapter 19

"So, your mom doesn't love you enough to give you a purse?" I asked, continuing our previous conversation. "What else has she deprived you of?"

"I bet she doesn't even have a car."

"Shut up," I sarcastically drawled, covering my mouth and giggling. "A car? Seriously."

"I don't drive yet," Ariana quickly replied.

"Did we ask you to speak?" I asked, spitting towards her.

"You should get one anyways," Penelope reasoned. "Don't you want to be cool?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Then get a car," Penelope said matter-of-factly.

"I'll ask her tomorrow," Ariana agreed.

"She'll say no," I shot down.

"The limo should be here any minute now," Penelope informed, stepping over to the curb.

"The guys' house is right down the street. We don't need a limo," Ariana said, beginning to panic.

"Are you coming?" I asked with annoyance clear in my voice.

"Em, you act like she has a choice," Penelope snickered.

Defeated, Ariana scrambled into the limo.

"Will you please take us to the car dealership down the street?" Penelope sweetly asked the chauffer.

When we arrived before the building, the chauffer promised to wait for us around the corner.

We shoved a reluctant Ariana out of the vehicle, stepping back as she sunk to the cement pavement below us.

"Please don't make me do this," Ariana whispered, tears strolling down her cheeks. "Tell people whatever you want about me. I don't care anymore."

"You don't care about being cool?" I asked, exaggeratingly pouting my lower lip.

"I'm going to say this one time—and one time only," Penelope slowly stated, looking down upon her as if she was a three year old. "You are going to steal the keys to that red car, and you are going to drive it as your own."

"I c-c-can't," she stuttered, ugly tears bubbling down her cheeks. "I'll get in trouble."

"Didn't you hear me before?" Penelope asked, looking for me for backup.

"You act like you have a choice," I slurred, grabbing the flask from my purse and swallowing the remainder of its contents.

Penelope walked to the trunk of the limo, snatching a crowbar. She began to walk towards Ariana, causing the pathetic girl to whimper and jump in fear.

"Please don't hit me," she murmured, her face a blotchy red mess.

"God, I would never," Penelope sighed, rolling her eyes. "I'm not spending the rest of my life in prison."

"You're right," Ariana said. "I will—if you make me do this. Please don't."

"Fine," I said, the disappointment clear on my drunken face. "We won't make you do anything."

"We won't?" Penelope asked, confused.

"Of course not," I responded, rolling my eyes. "Clearly she doesn't have what it takes to be one of us. Let's just leave her."