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︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶
Margo Catalina
chapter four- liars and criers
His car is warm and spacious and smells like him. The same way all his hoodies smell, forest pine and warm, clean, manly smelling cologne. Something about it is oddly comforting. I've known this most of the summer.
Rain patters the roof and windows like a drum around us, burying us in the ambiance of Washington.
He's blasting Deftones, I couldn't talk even if I wanted to. Good. At least the guy had good taste in music.
I click on my seatbelt, dreading the ride home. Home meant work, homework, nagging about unpacking, I sink into my seat with a sigh.
My hair was starting to curl as it began to dry with the heat blasting in my face. I don't know why, but I feel Chandler staring.
I ignore it, weird boy.
I run my hands through my hair, trying to detangle it, before it's too late.
"I don't have a girlfriend." He turns the radio down, blurting out. "Not that that's any of your business."
I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. He was just unbelievable, as if I cared.
"I don't give a damn, honestly." I narrow my eyes at him.
He drives fast, turning hard, nearly running a red light. I hold on for dear life, still offering him a deep disapproving scowl.
