She applied the brakes a little too late, the force of the impact making her jolt forward, her body collapsing against the steering and for a full minute the horn was just blaring.
“s**t! s**t!” She cursed when she noticed that she had actually smashed someone’s car, and the car seemed expensive.
This is probably the reason why people were always told to not receive calls when driving.
The car door opened and a tall slender man hop out in a slightly unfashionable manner, hopping on one foot and cracking his neck. “s**t!” she cursed again when she realizes the driver is actually, Liam, the scarred hooligan from yesterday. The man who had boldly threatened to chop off her finger over a measly slap and now she crashed into his car.
What would he chop off? She glances down at her hands;
