full throttle || h.s. ||

one || retail therapy

the song for this chapter is "Arabella," by Arctic Monkeys :)

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My days end best when this sunset gets itself
Behind that little lady sitting on the passenger side
It's much less picturesque without her catching the light
The horizon tries but it's just not as kind on the eyes

As Arabella

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Finley

"I do not need to go shopping to go to the race. You just want to go shopping, admit it," I demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at Willa, who was sat with a pleading look on her face at the end of my bed.

"Okay fine. I want to go shopping, but I want you to shop with me," she whined, and I rolled my eyes and laughed.

Lars popped his head into my room with an eager look. "We're going shopping?" He asked excitedly.

Willa turned to face him with a smug grin. "Yes, yes we are," she replied triumphantly, and Lars looked back to me to see my reaction.

"Fine, we're going shopping," I laughed, grabbing one of my pillows and chucking it a Willa.

Willa did this at the start of every season. It didn't matter how stuffed to the brim her closet was, as soon as the weather began to change, her wardrobe had to as well.

It was mid-August, and fall would be just around the corner, which meant that after we went shopping today, I knew that inevitably, I would have to help Willa clean out her closet and get rid of some things to make room for her new purchases.

I had met Willa my freshman year of college, and Lars and I had known each other since high school. We were best friends back then too, he was truly like a brother to me, and I wouldn't trade our friendship for the world.

He had always had my back, no matter the circumstance, and I had his. I was the only person in high school who knew that he was gay, and I held his hand when he finally decided to come out to his parents the summer before we left for college.

While they were kind of shocked at first, they ended up being very supportive, and I was so thankful for that. I remember how terrified he was to tell them, especially his dad, and he came to my house the night before and just cried with me for hours.

Lars and I just got along so easily, our personalities really clicked. So much so, that we made a pact that if we both weren't married by the time we were thirty-five, we would marry each other just for kicks and giggles.

Willa was a spitfire for sure. She was the rambunctious one, and she filtered into our friend group perfectly. She was spunky and loud, and always managed to make everyone laugh until they cried and had to grip their stomachs in pain.

I had never been someone who needed a lot of friends to feel validated, I cared way more about the quality of my friendships than the quantity of them. And I had the most quality fucking people in my life that I could ever ask for.

"Okay then! Get up! Let's go," Willa instructed patting my leg and scurrying off with Lars to go slip on some shoes.

I reached for the stretched-out elastic on my wrist and gathered my hair up into a ponytail, securing it and then standing up and pulling on my white sneakers.

I went over to my dresser and grabbed the keys to my vintage Mercedes. Lars had always told me I could sell that car for a ton of money, but I had no desire to, not yet, anyway.