Young Writers Society

Eric took a deep breath. You can do this. He politely opened the car door for her, and couldn't help notice the slightly suprised look on her face.

He walked around the other side and got in. Searching through his pockets, he found the car keys and started the engine.

"Where do you live?" He asked.

"667 Mornington Avenue," she found herself blurting out. The house was relatively large and sometimes it intimidated people.

It was just where she stayed when she was out of college -- with her parents, who happened to have a lot of money. She should've just given him an intersection close to the giant of a home.

She settled down in her seat and belted herself in. Then she wondered on how long she'd have to hide the flush in her cheeks.

667 Mornington Avenue...wasn't that, that huge house in the rich people neighborhood?

He glanced at Amelia and sighed softly. She was out of his league. A rich girl...he would have never guessed. Slowly he pulled up to the big mansion's driveway.

She got out of the car, and couldn't seem to think of anything to say, so she said a simple thank you and started to walk up the driveway.

Eric panicked. He wanted to see her again, but didn't want to seem too pushy or like he wanted a relationship, and if he didn't say anything soon, it would be too late.

"What's your number?" He called out into the frosty air.

(Are you still interested in doing this? It's been a while since you posted...)

(Sorry. Still want to continue?)

"My... phone number?" she questioned in response, raising an eyebrow as she raised her eyes slightly from her lap.