Tough Luck (Re-Writing)

Chapter 2: Moving In?

Grabbing a pair of black skinny jeans, a blue shirt that matches my eyes, a bra, and underwear, I head towards the shower.

Fifteen minutes later, I step out of the tub feeling refreshed. After that, I dress and then quickly apply eyeliner, mascara, and chap-stick before continuing to the kitchen.

There, I grab a water bottle, my keys, and head out of the door. I lock it, of course.

Hey, Rave. Meet me somewhere? my best friend, Olivia, texts me.

Sure. How about at Floras? I reply as I sit on my motorcycle. Flora is a small walk-in diner where you can get basically anything.

Okay. See you there in ten minutes.

Five minutes later, I'm sitting here eating an ice cream, waiting for Olivia.

"Come on, Olivia." I tap my fingers on the picnic table impatiently. She shows up a few minutes later.

"Sorry! My brother decided he wanted to hide my keys. I found them in the dryer." Olivia walks over, stuffing something in her purse. I laugh.

"The dryer?"

"Yeah! So anyways, what's been happening? You look pissed." She observes my face. I sigh.

"My brother is back. And he brought a friend." I clench my fist.

"What else?" She knows me so well.

"His friend is my mate." I grit my teeth. Oh yeah, Olivia is a werewolf too. She shifted a couple months ago. Seventeen is a bit early for a female shifter, but I was super early.

"Ah, hell." She pauses to pick at her nails. "You look tired... Did you drink?"

"You always ask me this," I mutter.

"You can't keep drinking like this. I don't want you dying or anything." I don't reply to her. Though clenching my fists angrily, I blow hot breath between my lips.

"We're wolves. We can't die from alcohol poisoning."

"But we can die if we do something stupid while drinking. What if you get-" Her phone vibrates. She reads the message and groans. "Shit, I need to go. My brother just threw my mom's vase across the room."

Frustration now gone, I laugh again as she runs around the corner and out of my view. 

"Come on! It's torn. I'm not paying full price for it!" A young girl with colored highlights yelling at a store owner catches my attention.

"Either you buy it or you don't!" The owner, an old man, argues back. I get up and walk over to the both of them.

"Aren't you a little old to be screaming at a teenager?" I snort at the man. He glares at me.

"I'm not letting her buy it for five dollars! It is fifteen and will always be fifteen dollars!"

I pull out a twenty from my pocket. "This should cover it."

He shakes his head. "No, she will pay."

"Take the damn money and get out of my sight." I snarl. He jumps back, eyes wide. "Keep the change."

I walk away from them, about to get back on my motorcycle, when the girl comes running up behind me. A faint smell of werewolf rolls off of the girl. She must be a shifter too.

"Wait." she calls out. I stop and she almost runs into me. "Why'd you buy this for me?" Looking down at the scarf in her hands. They were arguing over a scarf?

"Because I did. Now go home or something." I take about five steps away when I hear her mumble, "Yeah, what home?"

I turn around slowly. "You're homeless?" She looks up at me.