The Good Life

I am a girl. I have an average life, not the best; not the worst. Living on an avoided street with an array of charismatic people proves some level of difficulty. I am what happens when you put someone in between two lifestyles. In just under a month my whole life takes a colossal turning point, with a car accident, an incident with a burning wheelie bin, the pervert in the ice cream van and a bus stop. It all started with 80mph.
(WARNING: this has some language not suitable for younger audiences. And of sexual themes.)


6. Chapter 6: drugged ice creams

Chapter 6: drugged ice creams

                                             I never win arguments. I have tried and tried to win, but I don't. My opinion is always put down and it is extremely difficult for me to think of persuasive ways in which to do so, and convince the other person that my theory is better. I stutter and I trip on my own words. Then I get extremely annoyed at the opposition and wish not to speak to them for being ignorant. I fucking hate ignorant people, butting in when you try to say something. Thinking they are all it. Boisterous people. Selfish. I hate the stupid fucks.
                                            At this moment in time I was having a debate with the chavs and Hannah about if sex is better for men or women. I'm a little biased that it's women, but men can still get great pleasure from it. Chaving just immediately thinks that it's men. “That's because your sexist!” Hannah complained, pointing a freshly coated purple nailed finger at him.
“Am not. I just believe that men are superior to women.” Chaving replied, pulling is signature red jacket down, “ and anyway, Chaved thinks so to!”.
                                            Chaved, who had not been listening to the conversation, was sat absentmindedly on his phone playing some tap-the-screen-really-fast-or-your-going-to-loose game. He looked up, the game paused, and looked confused. Chavvy and I just continued to watch the banter. As you do. 
                                            Hannah's attention turned back to Chaving, who was now leaning against the broken lamppost. “Still that's sexist!” She repeated, “don't you know about equality?” She battered her eyes at him, and he looked like he had just seen some nude person walk past them and absorbed itself into Hannah's body. “Fuck equality. I. Am. Man.” He acted like a caveman, “yeah sure women work and all that shit, but you ain't changing my mind on the fact that more men walk around in successful business suits than women do”
My time to but in, “yes but you need to look at the fact there is you, living here and skiving off school. The one place you need to be right now to prepare yourself for a successful business”. I had a dark green cardigan on, and pulled the sleeves down. I regretted saying that. Chaving and Hannah both looked curiously at me.
“Ooh!” Chaved chimed, “busty schoolgirl burned you, bitch!” Chaving glared at me and wafted his hand at me, “we don't need you peasant women to say your opinion. Your not important in this conversation.” I kept trying to say something but I kept being interrupted. Same old, same old.
“Says the one with barely any education” I burned back, finally having the chance to speak. Chaving came closer so he was now in my face, “and a peasant? You have to be fucking kidding me. If you'd get your F-ing facts right you'd know that we are the most civilised, debarbaric family on the road”.
“I fucking hate you, you smart arsed bitch.”
“I know you love me.”
                                              Chaving stopped bothering now. After many interruptions from Hannah thinking we were going to fight, the debate had closed. As if I was going to fight with a boy who's ego is bigger than his biceps! Chaved brought a speaker with him, and so we listened to shitty dub step music and some rap music. I can't tell you how many times I had heard the N word and lyrics about sex in these songs. The more I listened, the less I wanted to be there. Hannah looked the same. Chaved was head banging to some rock dub step song, which Chaving was recording on his phone. Ha,ha, very funny Chavs. When the next song came on, it was some Miley Cyrus (after she converted from country to pop). Now they were shaking their ass like a Polaroid picture. I'm pretty sure that an infamous quote from somewhere.
                                              Over the sound of the Miley Cyrus song, you could hear the ice cream van. I'd never tried the ice cream from there and I had a couple of quid with me now. Now, was the best chance I could get to try the ice cream, hot and summery. Apparently, the ice cream from here is addictive and really nice. The ice cream van swirled down the road, pink and rusty white, playing the creepy song we all know too well.   
                               Everyone looked out of their windows and instantly came running towards the van, lining up down the road to taste this “addictive” ice cream. Obviously, having my curiosity kill my cat (not literally!), I took my place in line to investigate. The queue stretched two houses long, and once our large group got to the front, the Chavs began ordering almost everything on the menu. I facepalmed, embarrassed by their obnoxiousness. “OI! Ain't you buying anything?” Chaving turned around to me, hands in his pants. I hope he is trying to hold those up.
“Not really…” I trailed off, debating whether I should or not, “you guys are going to buy the whole supply anyway so there is no point”.
                   Chaving,who had already lost interest, began to collect all his ice creams. 
However, Whilst my summer group had been in line, I was examining the inside of the van. It had a sickly sweet pungent smell radiating away from the structure. Was it the driver’s cologne? I do not know.
                      As for the driver himself, he was unusually short and had bulging purple bags hanging from his eyes. My god, he looked like he was dealing. As Hannah stood aside with me, he continuously eyed up Hannah and the other small kids in line. Small thin tuft of hair sprouted from under his small pink and white hat, his smile was a resembled a cracked mirror. The inside of his van was dusty, and it did not look like normal dust…
                             “Doesn't he look weird to you?” I asked Hannah, prodding her tricep. She tilted her head and finally agreed. “He looks like a fucking druggie.” Hannah explained, “in this area, they are quite common. The next time you meet one, be nice to them.” She smiled at me, her rose pink lipstick stretched into a crescent across her canvas face.
“Ok, I will” we paused, “there are drugs in those ice creams aren't there…”
“Oh Deffo! Why do you think he has that smirk on his face?” And before I could ask, “he puts random shit in it. And by that I mean anything! That is why they are so addicive. Oh, yeah, and don't worry. My mums already called the police due to him causing trouble down other streets too.” And like that, we just watched. I was worried for the Chavs and how they are eating spiked ice creams, but then again, it will be funny to see what they say and observe their actions. Oh shit! That mean I have to look after them. Yay.
                      Together, all 5 of us were carrying 20 ice lollies and ice cream. Hannah's Raspberry chocolate Mr.Whippy had got caught in her hair and now she was whining about it, tears in eyes. I assumed Chavvy did know about the drugs because he didn't eat any; Chaving and Chaved were the ones gorging on the flavoured spiked ice. The duo were stumbling around the trees once they finished, leaving a few melted ice lolly packets (which I had binned when they weren't looking). Hannah had her phone out, recording the “funny stuff”. Chavvy and I remained seated at the wall, watching the sky get dark. “Looks like it going to rain” he stuttered, trying to start a conversation. I hummed, signalling an agreement. “ I wonder when the police will be here again”. I replied, changing topics.
“Soon.” Chavvy mumbled back, “I think very soon”.
Soon enough a police car was back down the street, after the ice cream druggie. I watched it all from my window. Supposedly, he was an ex- convict who was “experienced” in selling/ hiding drugs. Not surprised really. If this was the big thing, then what was next? I could only wait

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...