That sly Richard—he may have said we weren't breaking up, but he'd already cleared out all my stuff!
Ugh, men!
I looked around and finally found a school uniform, probably overlooked when packing up.
My luggage was still at the police station as evidence, and I wouldn't get it back until tomorrow. My current clothes were too dirty to sleep in, so I had no choice but to wear this uniform.
When I went downstairs, I found Richard already cooked, as he came out of the kitchen.
When he saw me, he was visibly taken aback, even dropping his silver forks with a loud clatter.
"What's wrong?" I scratched my head, suddenly remembering Richard's history with Carol. Didn't they have a thing back in high school?
And here I was, wearing the very school uniform that probably stirred up all kinds of nostalgic feelings.
But whose fault was that? His own, of course!
Clearing out the wardrobe and bringing me back—was he expecting me to praise him for being so thorough?
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got!
No way! If I'm upset, I won't let Richard off easily either!
"What's the matter? Never seen an 18-year-old, youthful beauty before?" I taunted.
"Um." He replied, which only fueled my anger.