Bad Romance

"Are you serious? You've never heard of Garrett La Salle? Omigod, Nat." Ivy said.
"Yeah, Ivy, I'm serious." I said looking out to the highway. We were sitting on a park bench outside the local gas station.
"Wow. Were have you been?" She asked, looking at me and tilting her head her curly honey blond hair falling around her face.
"I've been here. In this stupid town were nothing exciting happens." I answered, still looking at the non-busy highway.
"Why haven't your parents warned you?" She asked.
"I don't know, my parents don't care about me?"
"Fine." She said looking out to the road too. "I'll warn you about him." I rolled my eyes and drank some of my Coke. I looked down at my red converse and at my dark blue jeans. "Okay, Garrett has black hair and is super hot. But...."
"He's gay?" I guessed.
"No. He's a criminal." Ivy said crossing her legs. She was wearing Sperrys, light blue jeans, and a pink jacket, while I was wearing red Converse, dark jeans, and a red sweatshirt.
"What kind of criminal?" I asked intrigued.
"Well, he robbed someone. He stole a golf cart....um....he jacked an airplane." She said her hands in her jacket pocket.
I flipped my jacket hood over my brown hair. "And how did he steal an airplane?" I asked.
"His uncle is a pilot."
"Ah." I mumbled. "And what did he do with that airplane?"
"Well, they found it three weeks later, it was crashed in the woods." She frowned and looked at the woods on the other side of the highway.
"So he died?"
"Nope. Cause the day later they found a parachute. And he jacked a golfcart afterwards."
"And how exactly do they know....Garrett....is the one doing all of this?"
"He leaves pictures."