Last × CTH

II - Mustangs x Most Things

Finally, the house looked like a house.

Spent the whole morning cleaning the oh-so-damn-messy house and I can finally sit in the living room without scrunching up my nose. By one o'clock, I sat on the couch exhausted, Mike by my side.

"You wrecked this house big time, Michael. That was serious hard work."

"I know, that's why I'm treating you pizza. I shouldn't have asked you to clean this up yesterday, forgot about your jetlag sorry."

"S'okay. For a change, you woke up early for this. That's a bonus, I know," I giggled just because--Michael Clifford is actually up before noon.

He grunted and got his phone calling the pizza parlor and ordered our favorites. A half an hour more of waiting and watching crappy TV, the pizza came and we feasted right there on the couch with some coke. Nice late lunch, really.

Suddenly, while I'm on my fifth or was it sixth? slice of pizza, my phone rang.

"Your car's arrived. It's in the shop," said the person on the other line, not bothering for a hello. Then as soon as he said that, he hung up.

I frowned, "Bastard."

"Your dad?" Michael asked.

"Who else? Good thing, my car's here. Gotta pick it up from the shop," I jumped up, quite excited. "It's a new mustang convertible and I'm excited to drive it."

"If I have rich ass parents like yours, I'm never ever leaving my room," he commented.

"If you have rich ass controlling parents like mine, you won't be able to leave your room, they'll lock you in it. Knowing you and your sexcapades. But fairly, you don't even leave your room now," I teased him, getting my backpack from the foot of the stairs, lacing up black converses.

I glanced in the mirror, white v-necked blouse, black skinny jeans, black converses and my dark pixie cut hair sticking out on all directions. Cool.

I slung the bag on my back and called out, "I'll be back in, uhhhh, two hours?"

"You'll need at least three Cash. The shop's almost at the edge of town. Just driving there by a cab will take eons, much more driving back."

"I'll be driving back a Mustang, it's fucking fast, I tell you. I'll make it back here in two hours."

I trudged out the door.

"I'll be counting and you'll lose! You'll have to treat me by then!" I heard Mike shout from inside. Are men always this competitive? Well, at least Michael is.

I hailed a cab and pretty soon I'm on my way to the fancy car shop my parents owned.

-

I walked to the shop, my eyes scanning a black Ford Mustang but I knew the car would be at the back, by the garage so I can drive it out easily.

The salesmen and salesladies nodded and smiled at me. I'm always here as for my love of cars is just intense, so I'm kinda familiar with the personnel here.

"Jack!" I squealed at the man by the farthest part of the room by the door to the garage. He's  the manager and takes care of the business here while my parents are away which is all the time.

"Miss Casandra," the forty something year old man in a navy blue polo shirt like all the personnels hugged me dearly and let go. "Good to see you back, Miss."

"I wouldn't be so happy about being back but hey it's nice to see you again! Where is she?" my eyes glinted excitedly.

"She's back here. Come."