8: Cliques and Outcasts
“So, where will I be driving you?” he said as he checked his pristine hair in a mirror, “Where does a lovely lady like yourself spend her leisure time?”
“Oh, anywhere’s nice!” she replied.
“Well, anywhere it is,” he said, checking his reflection once again, “Guess we might as well take a scenic route! Hold on, Miss, you’ve never been in a baby like this before!”
The car sped forward and twisted around the streets like some sort of demonic monster Phantasia had only heard about in stories. She struggled to maintain her balance and was forced to grip the edges of her seat in desperation as Chris immersed himself in the thrill of high-speed driving.
“I was given this lovely by my parents,” he said, as he forced the car around a sharp bend, “It’s top-of-the-range, based on the most advanced specifications left behind from the glory days of the Old World. She’s the most beautiful beast in the whole of Torsten. Hell, she’s pretty much the only beast in the whole of Torsten! Everyone knows her. She’s a legend, and I’m the only one who has tamed her!”
Then, moments after skidding round another corner, the car came to a sudden halt and if it wasn’t for her inhuman abilities, Phantasia thought she would have catapulted through the front of the vehicle. Chris seemed oblivious to this, ripped his shades off and cursed under his breath. Two oddly dressed figures were standing in the middle of the road, mocking him with their mere presence. Phantasia recognised them and waved while Chris grumbled to himself. He then resigned himself to his fate and lent out the window to greet the boys with a sarcastic smile.
“Avast, Capt’n, I think we’ve reeled in a treasure trove today!” said Lysander. His hair was hidden beneath a flamboyant bandanna, his shirt was several sizes too big, and he waved around a sword cut from dead branches.
“Aye, we be finding ourselves a rare bounty here, sailor!” replied Angelo. He was wearing an odd hat, waved a hook around in one hand, and had a fake parrot dangling from his shoulder. “Aye, this be a fine ship worthy of our flag, it is. Hand over yer ship and treasure, landlubbers, and we’ll spare yer lives!”
“Can’t you idiots tell I’m on a date?” said Chris, his fingers drumming on the dashboard with increasing tempo as the two boys neared his precious car. Angelo sidled over to Phantasia’s window and popped his head in, his hat perched precariously on his head. She tried her best not to laugh, while Chris grimaced.
“Would ye be courting Mister Shaw there, Miss Celeste?” he asked, his unpatched eye widening in comical exaggeration.
“Oh, Chris was just taking me into town,”
“For a ride,” Chris added, “It’s a grown-up thing, boys,”
Lysander pulled himself through the opposite window, so that Chris was forced to cramp back into his seat. “Perhaps Miss Celeste would be wanting ta know that the town she seeks is just down yonder street?”
“Arr, just down there,” added Angelo, pointing to a road populated with oblivious people, “Can’t miss it. You wouldn’t want to be staying in this here vessel, believe you me.”
Chris pushed Lysander back outside. “Now listen he-”
“Oh, that’s great!” said Phantasia. Angelo’s face broke into a broad grin and he reached forward to jab a button on the dashboard while Chris was still preoccupied by his friend. As Phantasia’s door began to rise, Angelo slipped away and beckoned her out.
