~CHAPTER-8~

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Eight
•The hell of a ride•

"Money?"

"Check."

"Shopping List?"

"Check."

"Water?"

"Check."

"Sunglasses?"

Lay rummaged through her bag, "Check."

I paused halfway through applying my lip gloss and turned around to look at her.

"Snacks?" I narrowed my eyes at her. If she is going to take me shopping, she better brings snacks with her.

"Check." I smiled in satisfaction and faced the mirror again.

...

"Car?" I asked slowly, already assuming her answer.

She gave me a sheepish smile and tucked a strand of hair behind the ear.

"Not ready yet."

I threw my lip gloss and myself on the bed and grabbed the headboard tightly in my hands.

"I. Am. Not. Coming."

"Q... please, we'll take public transport. It can't be that bad." Lay argued. She tried to tug me out of the bed by my feet.

"For the sake of my chastity, please! I am not using any type of public transport." I groaned when she grabbed my leg and started dragging me out of the bed.

"You promised me, remember?" She reminded me.

"Whatever. I'm not going and that's final." I huffed.

Suddenly, she left my leg and started slamming her head lightly on the wall. She then let out a sign. I ignored her. She signed louder this time.

"What?" I asked, frustrated.

She let out a fake sob, "I-I know...I am not that good looking...I know,"-- fake hiccups--"b-but I want to..." --sobs-- "you know, attract boys w-with my non-existent," --hiccups-- "boobs..." She started shaking uncontrollably.

"So?" I asked.

She glared at me, "So, Miss.pissed-out-of-my-fuckin'-mind, you are coming with me so that I can buy something better to buy than my grandma's knitted sweaters." She stated the obvious.

"Please..." She dragged out.

I gave ger a bright smile, "No." And a middle finger.

She looked at her, invisible-to-normal-human-eyes, wristwatch and gasped dramatically, "Oh, I think Liam would be here somewhere in the campus, I have to spill some beans, kindly excuse me."

"Geez, okay!" I caught her before she could reach the door. I know, no matter what happens she will not betray me but I am not taking any risk.

.
.
.

"How much longer?" I cried out, the bench on which I was sitting was literally boiling.

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