Pipsqueak (BEING EDITED)

Chapter Eight

It didn't take very long for Cunt and Gash to roll up in a black Ford Mustang Boss 302, all four of the windows had been rolled right down, music pounding out of them. Freya heard them pull up from her house, that's how loud the music was. She watched as Rosie walked to the car and bent down to talk to the men inside of the car. Freya blushed, looking away at the sight of Rosie bending in skinny jeans.

Rosie laughed and climbed into the car, slamming the door as she sat.

Louis, mainly known as Cunt, was in the driver's seat; he was a mid-twenties man with dark curly hair. He often styled his hair back in a tight bun, because a tight bun was the only bun that could contain his hair. He had colourful, cartoon like tattoos slithering up his arms, making a sleeve on each arm. His eyes were a vibrant green, obviously contact lenses, he had big stretchers in his lobes. He looked like the typical hippie, but everyone loved that.

Callum, mainly known as Gash, was sat next to him in the passenger seat. Gash looked like a model, he had a sharp jaw and mysterious hazel eyes. His t-shirt bulged around his biceps; he often spent an hour or two in the gym every other day. His hair was sandy blonde and pushed back with gel. He had lines of designer stubble running along his jawline, there was a small tattoo over his right breast, one that pretty much everyone had seen. He knew he was handsome, and took advantage of that. As Rosie had told Freya, he was a complete manwhore and a vicious player.

"What did this guy do?" Rosie asked.

"Well," Cunt sighed. "According to Lucy, she said something back in an argument or something. Anyway, she's got herself a lovely bruise on her cheek, it doesn't take a detective to know who did it. I hate that cock anyway; he treats her bad."

"But he's never hit her before, they've argued and shit but he's never hit her." Gash said.

"A good tire slashing never hurt anyone anyway." Cunt shrugged his shoulders.

"That all we're doing? Pussies." Rosie said. "Hey! That's his car there...Gash, is the oil still in the back?

"Yeah."

Rosie smirked and got out of the car once it had stopped. She walked around to the back, tying her hair up with the band around her wrist and took the bottle of petrol from the back of the car. She took a bottle of cider from the carton of six and passed it to Cunt.

"Drink."

Cunt did as he was told and passed the empty bottle back to Rosie. She messily poured the petrol in the bottle, she then proceeded to stuff half of the tissue in the bottle, ensuring that the bottom of the tissue was stuck in the petrol at the bottom. She pulled her cigarette case from her pocket and took her zippo lighter from the case and stuffed her cigarettes back in her pocket. With one hand she picked up the bottle of petrol and held the smaller bottle.

She walked to Lucy's boyfriend's car and put the glass bottle of petrol on the floor and tipped the bigger bottle over the roof of the car. She then stepped back, holding the smaller bottle and walked back to Cunt and Gash.

"Savage," Gash chuckled, his voice smooth like melted chocolate.

She lit the end of the tissue and waited a couple of seconds, allowing the fire to catch the tissue and follow down into the bottle, at the last second, Rosie launched the bottle at the car.

The bottle exploded with bright reds, yellows and oranges covering the car. The petrol was soon being danced on by dancers of the flame. They smothered the car, smoke billowed into the sky. All three of them watched, smirking at the beautiful sight of Lucy's boyfriend's car on fire. They heard the tires pop and the car sunk down.

"Guys-guys! C'mon! The car's gonna blow." Cunt grabbed Gash and Rosie's wrists and pushed them in the back of his car, before hopping in himself and speeding off.

"He doesn't have CTV right?" Rosie asked, trying her best to get out of the awkward position she was in with Gash. Her legs were on either side of his waist; her neck was bent forward due to the roof of the car. Gash's face was buried in her breasts, muffled words leaving his mouth that nobody quite understood.

After struggling, they managed to pull apart and Rosie clambered into the front of the car. She stared out of the window before perking up at a sight she'd never imagined to see.

Freya was sat on the wall of Mr and Mrs. Nicholson's front porch, her head down with her hands in her lap.

"She was waiting for me?" Rosie felt a wave of emotion cross over her, confused, she climbed out of the car and sprinted to her friend.