17
The sound of a loud car revving distracts me from Call Of Duty. I pause the game and rush to the window. Pulling the blinds over to one side, I see a white sports car pull up a few metres down the road. Freya’s jackass boyfriend. What’s he doing parking so far from her house? Pushing my face against the glass, I try to see if she’s with him. She probably doesn’t want Jane or Tony to see him.
I bet they hate his guts. A smug grin creeps over my mouth, but then it disappears when I remember Freya is going to the lake today, and he’s most definitely here to pick her up.
Bastard.
I look over at her front door. She’s taking her sweet time. Maybe she’s had a change of heart. Maybe she’s realised that dating roided-up dickheads isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
And what? Dating skinny, gin
