Sublime Wreckage Read Online Free Page B

not expecting any sort of thank you or appreciation. I finish cleaning all the dishes and sweep and mop the kitchen floor. Next, I gather up the laundry and start a load. Now comes the fun part. I actually get to drive the car!
    "Do you have a list for the store?"
    "Yes. It's on the counter along with the money. Don't dilly dally or go for a joy ride. You hear me young lady?" I hate it when she calls me that but it's better than Mags.
    "Yes Ma'am. I will get back as soon as I can so I can finish up the laundry." That should get her off my back and allow for some extra driving time. I grab the keys, list and money off the counter and head out the front door grateful for some time to myself.

Chapter Three
    I am so giddy I actually jump up and down and squeal like a twelve year old. I hop into the front seat of my mother's maroon 1998 Pontiac Grand Am. It's not the nicest car or the newest but I don't care. I get to drive! I roll both windows down and prop my left leg up against the dash. I put the car in reverse and back out of the driveway. As soon as I am far enough away from my house I blast the radio. I immediately start singing along with classic 90's music.
    After about 20 minutes of driving around enjoying my freedom I decide I've wasted enough time so I head over to the grocery store. I park in the only open spot, grab the list and head inside. Once I get a cart I look down at the list and then check the money I shoved into my front jean pocket. Dammit. Of course she didn't give me enough money to cover everything. Not even close. Why does she do this to me? If I come back without getting everything on the list there will be hell to pay. I hate that she makes me do this. Even if I use the $22 I have left for my lunch money this week I still can't pay for everything on the list. I take a deep breath realizing what I have to do. Thank goodness I wore an oversized t-shirt today. Doesn't she realize this is even harder in the summer when I don't have a bulky coat to help?
    I grab the cart and clench it until my knuckles turn white. Then I let it go. At least if I get caught she will bail me out with no questions asked. I take a few minutes to examine the list more carefully. I add up how much this is all going to cost me and figure if I "five finger discount" four of the items I can pay for everything else and only have to use some of my own money. This is the reality of my life. So I suck it up and head into the store. I'm about halfway through the shopping list. I have two of the four "free" items securely tucked down my pants. Just as I'm reaching up on my tip toes to pull the asthmatic inhaler off the top shelf I hear a deep voice laugh behind me. I turn slowly, lowering myself back down to the balls of my feet, just as I notice who that sound came from. Standing right behind me is Vincent Moreno.
    "Sorry, but you might want to keep your shirt down. I can see that box peeking out of your jeans and I would hate to see a pretty little face like yours end up in juvy. Hi. I'm..."
    Right before he can introduce himself I snort. "I know exactly who you are Slick. And I don't need advice from you." I turn back around, reach up high and pull the box down. I turn back around with the box in my left hand, cross my arms over the cart handle and slowly begin to open the box. After it's opened I slide the inhaler out of the box and into my front pocket. My shirt covers the bulge there but even if someone sees it I can play it off as my own. I cross my arms again still holding the empty box. Vincent is standing there watching me like a hawk with a small smirk on his face. Oh my God! He is so damn good looking. He looks like his little brother but more mature. He has dark skin, dark brown hair that is almost black, cut very short almost like a military buzz cut. His eyes, oh my, his eyes. They are the deepest brown, they remind me of my dad. I have to get away from him but he is blocking my way. "Do you mind, I kind of need to finish