22. Strength Of A Chicken

FINN.

Who the hell could be driving so recklessly?

I had nearly been hit by the car. If my reflexes hadn't been fast enough, I would have been hit and definitely injured. I was so angry and I was going to give the driver a piece of my mind and something to think about.

Scarlett was on the other side, watching and waiting for me to drive over to her, but I was going to take a little bit of time to speak to this bastard driver.

Thankfully, his glass wound down and my eyes met with a blond-haired man who looked like he was from a band from the sixties.

"You fucktard! Watch where you're going when you're driving next time!" I snapped. "I know you're suicidal, but don't drag some of us who still want to live along with you while driving to your death, okay?!"

The blond guy popped his head out of his window but he ignored me and acted like I wasn't just standing there. He was looking somewhere else and when I turned, I realized he was staring at Scarlett.

"Fucktard," I