Read Online The Art of Life by Sarah Carter - Free Book Online Page A

carrying a bag.   “Here,” he
says, “This is yours.   Debbie says
everything you need is in here.”
                    I
take the bag and look inside.   All the hair product she showed me and make-up that I used
is in the bag.   “Jeremy,” I gasp.   “This had to have cost a fortune!”
                    “Eh,”
he replies, shrugging his shoulders.   “We
are all good.”        
                    “I
have to give you something for this,” I demand.
                      He shakes his head and articulates, “You
aren’t giving me anything for this.   We
need to go get you a flat iron now.   I
really hope you know what in the world that is.”
                    “Yeah,”
I reply.   “Let me stop and try and get
money from my mom.”
                    Giving
me a look, Jeremy sighs.   “That really
isn’t necessary.”
                    “You
are a part time bike mechanic, it is necessary,” I reply.   “You have things like rent and bills to pay.”
                    “Umm,”
he replies, staring at the ground.   “Those things are true, but….never mind.   If you feel the need, we can stop back at your house.”
                    Against
my better judgment, I leap at him and give him a hug.   “Thank you so much, you have no idea what
this means to me.”
                    He
laughs, picking me off the ground and returning the hug.   “I am happy that I could do it.   Let’s go. I am getting hungry.”
                    “Where
is your bike?” I inquire.
                    “I
really wasn’t going to make you put a helmet back on your head.   So, I brought my car.”
                    “I
thought it was in the shop.”
                    Smiling,
Jeremy replies, “It was getting a few kinks worked out.   It’s all good now.   It’s down the block.   Come on.”
                    We
walk and I practically have a skip in my step.   Suddenly, we come up to an older car.   I look at it.   “This is one of
those…what do you call them, muscle cars?”
                    “It
is my baby.   It’s a 1967 GTO.   You have no idea what that means huh?”
                    “Not
a clue,” I laugh.
                    He
just grins.   “Trust me.   This thing rocks.   Wanted by many men and only owned by a few.”
                    “Well,
it’s pretty,” I say.
                    Giving
me a smirk, he replies, “It’s not pretty, it’s gorgeous, much like you.”
                    “ Awww , that’s so sweet.”
                    “Come
on, get in.”   Jeremy opens the door for
me.   I throw the backpack and bag on the
seat and climb in.   It’s very
beautiful.   Even I can appreciate that.
                    When
Jeremy starts the car, you can feel the rumble of the engine.   I laugh.   “You can feel the power behind this thing.”
                    “Oh,
you just wait.   You have no idea.”   With that, he takes off down the street.
                    A
lot of guy’s heads turn as we drive downtown.   “So,” I say, “This is rather popular?”
                    “When
they are in this good of condition, yes, they are very wanted.   I could put this in a show if I wanted to.”
                    “Why
don’t you?” I ask.
                    Looking
away for a second, Jeremy whispers, “I just don’t.”
                    I
just watch him carefully.   For a little
while, he looks lost in his own little world.   When we pull up to my house, I see that my mom is still there.   “Wait here,” I insist