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Chapter 54 |Get A Fucking Room

Good friends, good books, and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.
- Mark Twain

Listen to The Sound by The 1975 for this chapter.

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"That idiot," Mia drawls.

"I know, right?" I mutter, dreamily.

"He's insane," she annouces, gazing at the remaining balloons that are kissing the ceiling. The rest lost most of their helium, and are wandering around and outside my room.

"Wren, your boyfriend is insane," Mia says, chuckling.

"He's okay," I reply, smiling.

"Understatement of the century."

"What am I going to wear?" I ask, staring up at the balloon-infested ceiling.

"Why did he have to ask you so late?" Mia groans. "The mall is going to be so busy. I would have taken you with me but you were too busy moping."

I shrug.

"But I'll take you anyway!" Mia's demanour quickly changes into work mode as she plots out the shops we're supposed to be visiting.

"There'll be about twenty," she concludes.

I nearly spit out my drink, but then I remember that I don't have one. "Twenty what?"

"Shops, silly," she says, looking at me with a sort of obvious smile.

"That's a lot," I comment, my voice small, but she's already dragging me to her car.

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"Since you're rich now," Mia starts, "why don't you get yourself a car?"

We cross the entrance of the mall and a wave of air conditioning hits my skin. My sneakers make contact with the smoothly tiled flooring and the noise levels increase. Shopping malls, the bane of my existence. Even so, I guess Mia loves shopping enough for the both of us.

I give her a sideways glance. "I don't even have a licence yet. I'm pretty sure the order goes licence and then car."

I hadn't even considered buying a car after the inheritance. The legal process was highly annoying, and involved signing and papers and lawyers and a steady repetition of the three. By the time the transfer was legally complete, I was too tired to think about what to actually do with it.

"Why don't you try again?" she suggests. "The driving test, I mean."

"Maybe, I--"

"Oh my gosh, the dresses here are cute, let's go!" She pulls on my arm so hard I think it might fall out of the socket.

I smile to myself. I won't say it aloud and spoil the mood, but I'm going to miss Mia a lot. More than words can say. Sure, she'll still keep contact with me on the phone, and we'll still meet up every second or third week, but it won't quite be the same. Right now, though, I can't think about it, because she's looking at me expectantly as if she'd just asked me a question.

"Sorry?" I say, "I wasn't listening."

"Of course you weren't. Do you have anything in mind?"

"Not really," I say.

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