22 | here's a quarter

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T W E N T Y - T W O | here's a quarter—

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T W E N T Y - T W O | here's a quarter—

C A P R I C E

I packed my things and two weeks' worth of clothes in my tattered luggage. I also shoved the brochure and an extra wad of cash. All the while, I could feel Aiscelle's questioning eyes on me. I hadn't spoken to her since the altercation between Colt and me. I figured she was concerned but I doubted she'd understand me if I tell her the reason. Especially if it involved the guy of her dreams.

I snubbed her looks and grabbed the strap of the heavy bag, swinging it over my shoulder as I strutted to the living room.

"Priz! Wait!" she called out as my hand wrapped around the doorknob.

I turned to her. "What?"

"Are you okay?" The younger girl bit her lip sheepishly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Why?" I snapped. "If I talk about it, will the problem go away?"

Aiscelle parted her mouth in surprise. "W-well..."

I rolled my eyes and exited the apartment. I had no time to deal with Aiscelle's fragile feelings since I would be facing a lot of bad memories soon.

I walked to the gym's entrance where Colt was leaning against a black Mazda, a cigarette between his lips. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as Taylor handed him a stack of papers that he accepted with hesitation.

"So, I'm traveling with you?" I mumbled when I reached them.

The white shirt hugged his body, revealing his broad shoulders and toned arms. Why was it that he looked like a model even in cheap clothes?

"Do you wanna walk instead?" he shot back, throwing the documents inside the car.

It seemed we were both in a pissy mood. But that was okay. I was done being nice. Destruction was more of my forte.

"Caprice, I gave Colt the gym's guidelines and monthly reports. I read that you will need that for the forums," Taylor explained, not losing his smile despite the fangs Colt and I showed.

Acrylic sauntered towards me. He gave me a pat on the back. "Good luck, Priz."

I glared at the spot where he touched me that AC chuckled, hands up in surrender. "Sorry. Are you having a bad day?"

"More like bad days," I responded, scowling at Colt who continued talking with Taylor. "I don't know how you managed to live with him in the same house without killing him."

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