Get Rich Quick

- Chapter 5 -

CHAPTER 5: Get your point across.

"I'm not marrying someone who looks like an Elvis tribute act."

-

There is a multitude of things Rowan imagined she'd be spending her summer holidays doing. She imagined late nights of bonfires and ceaseless laughter, drowsy mornings of coffee and giggles, whispered secrets and loud music, like in those coming of age, American movies.

Unfortunately, for her; she had a curfew, she hated coffee and she lived in a quaint part of Scotland where sunshine was almost as rare as teenage happiness.

What she didn't imagine herself doing was peering through the window of a rich boy's house through Poundshop binoculars, huddled around a tiny window with her 3 equally nutty mates.

But that's exactly what she was doing.

"Do you see him?"

"If I saw him, wouldn't you see him too idiot?"

"Damn, chill son."

"Ugh, you're squashing my toe."

"But did you die though?"

The gang sat, rather squashed, around the Peeping Hole, which was primarily and solely for the intent of peeping.

"Hits blunt." Charlie said abruptly. "Why is there an L in Noel if its called Noel?"

"You are the reason I contemplate homicide daily." Joy muttered under her breath as she struggled to shift her long frame into a comfortable position."

"Wait, did you say homicide or suicide" Lucy said, lifting the binoculars from her face to reveal deep red indents.

Joy simply stared at her for a moment before turning away. "Both."

"Hush, there he is!"

Indeed there he was, petting a grey cat that sat on the fence of the the house breifly before making his way down the hill. Black Oxfords sleek and shiny, uniform bright and pressed, even in the shade of the treehouse. Wavy blonde hair combed neatly to the side, showing just a sliver of forehead. Just as always.

Is what Rowan wanted to say.

But she simply couldn't, not when his hair was heavily greased back, dripping in gel in a way similar to a boy she knew in Primary school.

Lewis was pale and freckled, the kind of boy that was always sticky, for reasons she didn't care find out. He styled his with gel he stole from his grandfathers vanity. Had a strange fondness for touching her hair and had vomited on her shoes once.

An involuntary shiver ran down her spine. War flashbacks.

By this the of course, Charlie was hysterical with laughter and Lucy could barely contain hers.

The blonde boy frowned, spun around to see where the loud laughter was coming from. Unknowing of the little treehouse hidden beneath the leaves where 4 girls sat sniggering at his hair. Unable to see the source the boy simply went on his way.

Charlie rolled around the floor, howling in laughter. "He- looks like- an 80s greaser!"

"S-shut up." Rowan barely managed to say. She felt an odd feeling that she had to defend his honour. She wasn't sure why, it wasn't as if he had much honour left after leaving the house looking like that

The giggles of the gang became background noise as Rowan landed deep in thought. I may not have seemed that big of a deal but to Rowan it was big. You see, as they lived in such a small place, it came with a plethora of disadvantages. Bands never had concerts near them, they could never get shipping and cute boys, which there was quite a lack of, were rather hard to come by. It wasn't as if they were ugly, they could even be deemed decent if they discovered the importance of personal hygiene.