I fought hard not to roll my eyes.
"English." I said. "Listen, are you sure Sierra had called the gun carriage?"
"I think so. I don't speak Spanish, though."
I stiffened.
"What?" my head snapped in his direction.
"She was talking in Spanish. I'm not entirely sure what she said."
My eyes widened.
"Then why the hell have you told me she had called the damn gun carriage?" I shrieked.
"Because I thought so."
I glared at him.
"In Spanish. You really believed that Sierra called the gun carriage and talked to them in Spanish."
He shrugged.
"Why not?"
"Because we're in the freaking US, dumbass! That's why!" I exploded.
He put his hands up in a defeat motion.
"Hey. I didn't know if she spoke English. I've only heard her talk in Spanish."
Dear Mary and all the saints in Heaven...
"She does speak English, idiot."
"Well, then I'm sorry."
He didn't sound sorry at all. Suddenly, a thought appeared in my head. I turned my head to look at him, my eyes narrowed.
"Is it your revenge for what I've done to your car? Is it why you did it?"
He looked surprised.
"Did what?"
"Fooled me into believing the gun carriage was on its way."
He looked away.
"Maybe."
He did not just say that. Suddenly, I felt the urge to find the heaviest thing possible and throw it at him. I think my fallen bumper would be just perfect.
"Give me the damn number." I said through clenched teeth.
" I don't know any." my shoulders sank. "But I think I might know someone who could take care of your car for you."
"Really?" I looked up at him. "Whom?"
He grinned.
"Me."
I looked him down.
"Are you a gun carriage driver in disguise or something?"
"No. But I have a rope in my trunk and a hook on my chassis." he pointed his thumb to the car.
"And how are you planning on towing a car with no front?" I asked.
"I will manage."
"No way." I shook my head. "Give me the number."
He reached out.
"Give me your phone."
I eyed him suspiciously.
"Why?"
"I'll write the number down."
"Oooor, you can tell me the numbers and I'll write it myself." I suggested.
"It's not going to work." he shook his head. "I'm visual. I will remember it only when I see the keyboard."
I lifted a brow.
YOU ARE READING
English Accent (The Accents #1)
Teen Fiction* under the process of being edited * What Abi Hindley hoped for coming from England to study in the US: a new, composed life in an unknown place with freshly met, new people. What Abi Hindley didn't hope for coming from England to study in the US:...
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