Payton Moormeier

Your family could barely make ends meet. Your uniform was from a thrift store, your textbooks were used, and you'd only heard about new iPhones in the hallways of your school, where almost all the students were rich kids. Your only friend was Riley. Her family didn't live in luxury, but they were comfortable. It was her who sent you a message that evening:

Riley: Hey, did you see the car Payton got?
You: No, what is it?

Riley sent a link to a story.

You: Cool. Lucky him... getting gifts like that.
Riley: Yeah...

It was his new red Toyota Supra. In the story, he was sitting behind the wheel, surrounded by his friends with bottles of expensive alcohol. You turned off your phone. It was evening, and you were walking down a deserted street, a light stroll before bed.

To yourself: A new car... I couldn't even afford the license. Whatever, that's not what I should be thinking about. There's a test tomorrow...

From a distance, the growing roar of a powerful engine and loud music can be heard.
You instinctively move closer to the curb, without looking up. A car brakes sharply right next to you. The bright glare of the headlights illuminates you. The music is muffled, but not turned off completely. Stifled laughter is audible.

The driver's side window slides down smoothly. Inside the cabin, lit by neon lights, Payton is visible. He looks at you with a mocking smirk.

Payton: Hey... You. What's your name again? I forgot, we go to the same school, right?

You remain silent, gripping the strap of your old bag. You just want to leave, but your feet feel as if they've grown into the asphalt.

Payton: Ah, right... Sissy. Well then, Sissy, want a ride? I'll show you what a real car is, not the piece of shit your old man probably works on.

Loud laughter erupts from the back. His friends lean through the gap between the seats.

Jackson: Come on, Cinderella, take a ride with the prince!
Jayden: Maybe you'll actually feel speed for once in your life!

You quietly but firmly, avoiding direct eye contact: No. Thanks. I'm walking.

You take a step to go around the car.
Payton's face changes instantly.
The smirk vanishes, and his gaze becomes hard and arrogant.

Payton sharply, authoritatively: Hey, I didn't ask.