“Thank you, Natasha. I’m sure I will have a thrilling time,” I reply cattily. Arrick lifts a palm in question, another narrowed frown my way, and mutters something at me through his own gritted teeth. I raise my eyebrows at him snootily and go back to staring at the scenery with an irritated surge of anger building inside. I hate that girl more than any of his last girlfriends, not that I met many, and I wouldn’t care if she choked to death - on one of her overly pink cupcakes I am ...