“Shotgun.” I said as I walked out of the school, trailing Mr. Sacket.
“There’s no competition-no need to claim stuff.” He retorted, clearly already tired of me.
I rolled my eyes and hopped in the passenger seat.
He started the car, turned on some classical (which I quickly turned to a rap station) and started out of the parking lot.
“So, where we going?”
“Stop asking so many questions.”
I smirked, “What do I do when we get there?”
He shrugged, “Dunno. We’ll probably take a few pictures, the usual kind of thing..”
I turned towards the window, trying to hide how freaked out I was.
I expected him to go towards the alphabet streets, but we ended up going to a pretty nice neighborhood.
We stopped infront of a 2 or 3 story house with a pool out back.
“It’s not mine.” He replied briskly.
I laughed sarcastically, “Like I don’t already know that. Reality check, you live on a teacher’s salary.”
I got out of the car, walked up the drive and let myself in. Who needs the formalities of it all anyway?