Ten
Brody
When I’d offered to drive, Emma had smirked at me and said, “Uh, probably not a good idea to bring your flashy sports car … not if you want to keep it. We’ll take the bus.”
I didn’t reveal I’d never ridden on a bus before, but I had the feeling she already knew.
“Afternoon, Marv, this is Brody,” Emma said to the driver as we walked on the bus.
“Take a seat and hold tight to those shoes,” Marv said.
I sat down next to Emma and glanced down at my Yeezys before looking up and catching her smirk.
“What?” I asked.
She shook her head and grinned.
“Nothing, you’re just like a walking neon sign that says rob me, even without the fancy car.”
“Are you taking me somewhere I’m likely to get robbed?” I asked, not really worried.
It’s funny to think that I trusted her, when I was pr
