"What...what are you doing here?" As much as I hate to see him, I'm also curious.
"What do you mean? are wretch like me not allowed to come to a place like this?"
I roll my eyes. I didn't know he heard me call him wretch, or maybe Tracy told him I did.
"you are supposed to be with Tracy at the bookstore."
"Yes, I took her home an hour ago. I just decided to check this place out, since I'm new here. And if you are wondering how I came to know, Lucian invited me but I declined at first," he says, and we both stare at Lucian in disgust.
"I don't think he's going back home tonight," Morgan adds.
"Whatever, I'm out of here," I walk away, stamping my heels so hard on the floor.
As I step out, I look around.
A disk-like moon and a blur of shining stars rest on the thick dark cloud.
I tap on my phone screen to confirm what time it is.
"Dam!" it's already midnight. There's no way I can get a cab, and I can't walk home —not in these heels. I can't call my mom because she's out to God knows where, and she hates being disturbed. I decide to walk down the street, who knows, I might luckily see a cab.
As I'm about to leave,
"Do you need a ride home?" A sweet, soft, dazzling voice asks from behind me, and I turn to know who dazzled me with such a voice.
Seriously? it's Morgan, AGAIN.
I sigh and say "no I don't."
"Are you sure about that? cause I don't think you'd see any cab around at this time of the night,"
He says, stressing his sight at his cheap old wristwatch.
"It's 12:am," he adds.
Does he have to say it? I hate the fact that he's handsome, eloquent, and seems friendly.
"Don't pressure, I'm not getting into your wreck car." I stamp on, with the faith of getting somewhere. But looking down the road, I just can't see the end.
He chuckles, following me.
"You haven't even seen it."
"Do I have to? I've seen you, and your car won't be any different from your clothes," I blunt, and he chuckles.
"We talking about my clothes now?"
"No, not at all, and will you stop following me?!" I yell as I turn to him, and I can feel pains down my ankles.
"I'm not. that's my house and my car is packed there," he says gesturing his head at this Still-quaint house, in my opinion.
"I don't think you'd last if you continue streaking in those," he says, looking down at my heels.
"Thanks, but I can manage," I tell him, but deep down inside I need a ride home, my feet hurt so badly. Can you imagine? the heels I bought with my own money.
"Suit Yourself," he says and walks across the road.
Maybe not so friendly. how can he give up on a vulnerable girl just like that?
"Okey," I say and walk towards this house across. "Wait!" I tell him. My pride can't ruin me
"Fine, but just because my feet hurt, don't get any funny ideas," I add, and he smiles.
I follow him to the house across. A 1990s Chevrolet Camaro ss is packed at the front. He gets into the car and starts the engine.
He stretches out his head from the passenger-rolled-down window. "Are you coming?" He asks.
My eyes widen.
You gat to be fucking kidding me.
"No, no, no, no. I can't get inside of that..." I say with my palm held up, shaking my head.
"Well miss, this is the only available car for you as of now," he says from the rolled-down window.
YOU ARE READING
FRAUD
Mystery / Thriller"I watched as my fifteen-year-old best friend stabbed his dad. Xavier wouldn't stop. He continued stabbing his dad. Blood splattering his face didn't stop him and he was done only when his dad was dead. Xavier looked at me and smiled. I could tell h...
