Note To Self: Do Not Commit Suicide [On Hold]

Note to self: Do not attempt to commit suicide again [11]

Note to self: Do not attempt to commit suicide agan

- Chapter 11

Once school had finished, Dave and I began walking to the bus stop until his strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me to a stop. It caught me by surprise.

"Whoa, I know that I'm amazing but what the hell are you doing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We aren't taking the bus today," Dave slowly released his grip but I tightened mine around his neck.

"Why not?"

"Because I have a car."

I snorted.

"If you have a car then how come you take the bus from and to school? How are you allowed to drive? You're 17 right? Which means, by law, you're not allowed to drive."

"Calm down Chantie. Look I take the bus because I want to see you," that made me smile. "Yes I am 17 and I have my full driver's license because my dad 'persuaded' the driving company to give me one. It was more of a bribe than the use of persuasion." Dave chuckled at the last part.

"Oh," I mumbled quietly. "So where's your car?"

"It's right there."

Dave pointed to the car right in front of us. I let out a low whistle and instantly let go of Dave, admiring the beautiful masterpiece.

This wasn't just any car. This was the Bugatti Veyron EB 16.4 which was the fastest production car in the world, with an average top speed of 431.072 kilometers per hour, going 60 mph in 2.6 seconds. It was named "Car of the decade" by Top Gear.

I know, I know. I sounded like some car obsessed freak, well that was because I am. How do I know so much about cars? Well, you see I have no life. I spent most of my time watching Top Gear because it was freaking awesome. It was the best T.V series ever, besides from Gossip Girl. My dad used to own a few car companies so I guess it the love of cars must run in the family or something like that.

Dave laughed at my shocked face.

"How the hell do you get that car? Do you know how expensive it is?" I asked loudly. It was freaking $1,700,000. Dave laughed even more. "Can I drive?"

Dave stopped laughing and stared at me with wide eyes. "No."

"Aw why not?" I whined.

"Well because you're underage and you don't have your full driver's license."

"That is so unfair," I said angrily, crossing my arms.

"Yeah, sucks to be you, doesn't it?" Dave took the car keys out of his pocket and began throwing it in the air and catching it. Oh, that boy was showing off.

This was your chance Chantie. Dave threw it up once more but before he could catch it, I jumped as high as I could and grabbed it. Dave glared at me with disbelief.

Before Dave could get the keys back, I sprinted towards the car. I clicked on the button which unlocked the doors. I opened the driver's seat door and just as I was about to get in Dave stopped me.

Shit, he had caught up with me.

"Chantie give me the keys or you're going to regret it," he said sternly with no expression on his face.

"Please," I begged.

"No." Ah god, he's such a party pooper.

Ha, I got an idea. I quickly wrapped my arms around his neck. I pulled him towards me and kissed him. Dave responded as his tongue entered my mouth and began to caress. I pulled his hair gently.

Don't get distracted Chantie, I reminded myself. I reluctantly pulled away and pushed Dave away as hard as I could. He staggered a bit in surprise.

This was the perfect moment. Once Dave was distracted I climbed into the car and closed it. The smell of the car was amazing, the leather seats... I tried not to drool.

I put on my seat belt and smiled proudly at my achievement. I turned on the engine and revved the car. Dave shook his head as he got into the passenger seat.

"If you hurt my baby then you're-" I cut him off by speeding off. "Slow down!" he screamed while clutching on the arm rest frantically.

"Geez cry baby. Where's your house anyways?" I asked him with one hand on the wheel, trying to act all cool.

"ARGH! Two hands on the wheel! I do not want to die," I rolled my eyes and obeyed. "Turn left here and keep going straight until I tell you to turn."

We drove in silence and every few seconds I would glance and take a look at Dave's face. His expression had panic written all over it.

"Chantie..." Dave began.

"Yeah?"

"Do you have your license?" he asked me. Ha, he should have asked me earlier.

"Umm well, I've been on my L's for a year and a half. I'm not old enough to try out for my P plates. Why do you ask?" (This is the Australian driving law thing so it might not make sense to you LOL)

"Oh, it's just you're a pretty good driver."

"Was that a compliment?" I beamed happily.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Turn right here and at the end of the road turn right again," he instructed. I did what he told me to. This car was an amazing drive. "Okay good, turn left at this road."

I turned onto the road which then led to enormous black gates. The gateman/guard saw the car and opened the gates. I drove on which led an extremely long drive way.

"You have got to be kidding me. Is this where you live?" I began gazing at the area.

"Yeah," Dave sighed sadly. I could tell something was wrong.

"What's wrong? This place seems amazing." I parked near the front of the house. I turned off the engine and handed Dave the keys back. He snatched it out of my hands and began cuddling it.

"Come on," Dave was about to open the door before I stopped him.

"No way, you're going to tell me what's wrong and don't even think about trying to change the subject," I said in my scariest voice.

Dave sighed as he knew he couldn't argue against me. "Well, this isn't going to be our house for much longer."

"Why's that?" There was no way in hell that Dave was close to getting bankrupted so what could the problem? I'd loved to live here.

"In a few months, there's this girl right. Let's call her Anne. Well in a few months Anne is going to turn 18 and when she does, this house is hers. Apparently Anne had inherited the house when her parents died but she wasn't able to have it until she's the legal age. My parents and I have been living here ever since because my dad was friends with Anne's dad and we were supposed to look after the house for Anne," he explained. Oh no, this wasn't good. This story sounded awfully familiar.

"I think I know who 'Anne' is..." I began softly.

"Who?"

"Me."