"I'm allergic to wool, genius." Briella Harp said. Throwing the sweater back onto the rack, I frowned and migrated over to the shoe sales table. "Fine. How about these?" I asked as I picked up a pair of platform sandals.
Briella gagged and giggled. "They look cheap."
"Yeah, like we have True Religion money."
"I wish." Briella said. She snorted and headed out of the store. "I'm in the mood for Japanese food."
"Pizza instead?"
"Nah, daddy gave me extra money."
"So how's your kitte-"
"If it isn't the the Wack Two." A familiar voice interrupted. We both turned around, glared.
Rebecca Simpleton and Helena Stowe. Ew. The worst people to have as enemies.
Rebecca thought that just because her parents donated tons of money to the school, then she owned us or something.
Yeah, she was in the Social Chair for two-years in a row. The Social Chair basically ran the school budget, parties, everything. and Rebecca was also captain of the debate team. She could argue you to death and all she had to say was, "My mommy and daddy are keeping your school intact."
"If it isn't the Basic Bi-" Briella began. But I shoved her a little and stepped forward in the Italian pizza line.
"What did you say? Don't forget that I beat your scrawny behind on Social Chair."
"I only tried out once."
"Don't forget that you didn't win. I'm above you both." Rebecca snapped. Helena giggled, her braces flashing as much as braces can in the fluorescent lighting of the food court.
"Um, you poop, you burp, you pee; you're just like us. Flaws and all." I countered.
"Except that I'm rich." How could someone be so smart and empty-headed at the same time?
Rebecca and Helena strutted away, bags in hand, shaking their butts like it was a career.
"Usually it takes longer to ward the bugs off." Briella quipped. I smirked.
After eating, Briella and I walked out to the parking garage. It smelled of sweat and motor oil.
"So I'll see you later?" Briella said. I nodded and hugged her. "Yeah." She walked the opposite way from me.
I pulled out my cellphone, texting my boyfriend, Grayson that I was on my way to his house. My fingers danced across the screen, not even paying attention to my surroundings.
I put my phone back in my pocket and felt a shiver run through me. Everything felt eerie, like I shouldn't be there.
My used car was a few vehicles away. I pulled out my keys, ready to unlock the door when a truck barrelled past as if whatever destination it was meant to go, it had to go there before it was annihilated or something.
What I didn't notice was how it backed up, the windows dark and tinted so I couldn't see a face.
I hurried. This was how people got stolen. Not me though.
"Hey, need help with those bags?" A guy in a leather jacket and jeans hopped out. He had black hair and a chiselled face.
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." I said, running to my car. But in a swift motion, he grabbed my arm and placed a weird-smelling cloth on my nose. I felt myself drifting away, my limbs becoming numb.
My hand went up to his face, tried pinching it but it quickly slipped away and my eyes closed completely.