paint me like one of your french girls (gxg)

glow up tutorial

"Doesn't mean I have a car." I laugh.

She rolled her eyes, "How far is your house?"

"10 miles." I answered.

"10 miles?! Mace it's 30 degrees out!" She yelled.

I quickly ignored the nickname so I wouldn't start blushing again, "I got a jacket on." I shrugged, "Besides when I think about you, it keeps me warm." I grinned.

She rolled her eyes, "Shut the fuck up and get in."

I raised my eyebrows at her, "I'm not asking." She glared.

One thing I've learned from Mr. Jackson, is never argue with a woman when they look at you like that.

"Yes ma'am." I muttered, walking and getting into her G-Wagon.

"You got a nice car here." I said, admiring the tech in the dashboard.

"Shut up." She snapped.

I recoil, "How dare you talk to me like that?" I gasped, faking being hurt.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me you walk home everyday?" She yelled, hitting me in my arm.

"First of all, owww!" I yelled, rubbing my arm, "Second of all you didn't ask." I mocked, repeating what she said earlier.

She stared blankly at me then hit me again, "Oww! Would you stop hitting me and focus on the road!" I screamed, covering my arm that felt broken.

I'm exaggerating it didn't hurt that bad, I just wanted her to feel bad.

"Next time just ask me for a ride." She muttered, finally focusing on the road.

"Awww you care about me." I cooed, poking her cheek.

"Stop distracting the driver." She snapped.

I laughed and just stared at her, "Do you even know where you're going?"

"No, I was just gonna drive straight until you tell me which way to go." She snickered.

I laughed, "Take a right up here." I said, putting my hand on the "oh shit handle".

"You can play some music." Paris spoke.

I gasped with my hand over my heart, "You're giving me control over something?"

She rolled eyes, "Stop talking before I change my mind."

"Jeez what died up your ass." I mutter, plugging my phone in.

She raised her hand like she was gonna hit me again, "Woah, wait, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it!" I exclaim.

"Just play the damn music." She said with a small smile.

I was debating which song to play when a fantastic idea popped into my head.

With a small smirk I put on "Treat You Better" By Shawn Mendes, thinking of the other day.

Paris rolled her eyes again, "I swear I'm this close to kicking you out of the car, Mayson." She muttered, threateningly.

"Fine, fine, I'll change it." I snicker.

I put "Honesty" by Pink Sweat$ and left it at that.

"Decent song choice." Paris said, nodding her head approvingly.

"Decent? Only?" I gasp, turning to her.

"It's a good song, I just didn't think you'd have that good of a music taste." She shrugged.

"Well that was just rude." I mutter, turning back to the front.

Before I knew it we were pulling up in front of my apartment. Honestly, I felt some bit of shame, considering I know how much money she has, while I have no where near as much as she does and it really shows when you look at my apartment.