I haven't had fun in a long time. So that's why I was skeptical when Palia pulled up to my driveway in a glossy red Benz, rolled down the windows and told me to get in.
"We're going on a ride, bitch."
"Oh my God," I breathed. I didn't think she'd understand me when I told her I needed a break. But I didn't think this was what she had in mind, either ...
She laughed. "Oh, come on! This will be fun! Trust me."
I eyed her suspiciously. Whenever Palia planned something, it was bound to be a crazy night full of near deaths and speeding tickets. Nevertheless, I got in anyway, persuaded by her constant ushers and threats on killing me if I didn't.
We backed out of my driveway when suddenly, we were jerked roughly to the side as she hit the curb of the sidewalk. "Eyes on the road!" I shrieked. "You're gonna get us killed!"
She rerouted and backed out of the driveway cautiously. "Alright! I got this."
As soon as we left the safety of the shade, the warmth of sunlight flooded into the car. A light breeze blew my hair and the lush grass and green leaves rustled in the distance. It was a beautiful day to be outside. Spring was approaching, fresh to the lungs and soothing to the heart.
Palia turned up the radio and blasted a song. The bass pounded through the car, rocking it back and forth.
"So," she hesitated. "I booked a reservation at Kaija's."
I gasped, my eyes bugging out at her. "You're shitting me." Kaija's was one of the most expensive restaurants in Beverly Hills, and that's saying something when almost everything in the city hung with one grand price tags. I didn't want to think about how much a reservation costs–you had to book it months earlier to snatch a seat.
Palia laughed again. "Nope. It's all real, baby. My uncle hit jackpot in the market a few weeks back."
Palia came from a wealthy family, with a mother that worked as a surgeon and an uncle who's a stockbroker. Financial problems were the least of her worries.
"Ohemgee!!" I squealed, grabbing her arm and shaking it up and down before a wave of realization hit me. Oh. I couldn't spend the money her uncle won, no matter how close we were. She should be out with her family, enjoying a vacation in London or Brazil or wherever she hadn't gone yet. "You didn't have too ... I feel bad that you spent it on me."
"I'm not spending it on you, silly." She replied. "I'm spending it on us." We coasted to a stop at a traffic light and she turned to flash a full smile at me. A grin slowly crept onto my face, knowing there was nothing I could say to change her mind.
With the pounding music playing, we were getting plenty of glares from drivers next to us. Noisy, up to no good teenagers, they were probably thinking. I belted out a laugh as I let out the stress I held in for so many weeks. As I lay in shotgun, I felt like a teenager once again. Memories of reckless nights flooded my head.
"To a night we won't forget!" She yelled as she stomped on the gas pedal and we lurched forward.
So of course, I shouted after her. "To a night we won't forget."
I wish I'd known the extent of the truth in my words.
