Grace stared at her fingers for a moment and then seemed to snap out of it.
"Well, what made you feel better?" he asked.
I looked at the boy, he seemed fine. Why was he so agitated? Mort turned around and glanced at the mess he had caused.
"Is that all I did?" he said, his gaze sliding over his frightened classmates. "I'm sorry..."
"And what got you so worked up?" the mafia girl asked.
"I still want to beat someone up," the boy said quietly, but I heard him and winced. Was he still not calmed down?
"No, no, everything is fine. It's just that Grace is upset... yes, he's here too," the mafia girl seemed to be talking to herself, with earphones in her ears.
And then the girl gestured to herself. The brunette was standing by the window, looking at something. Grace soon approached her and exclaimed cheerfully.
"What's this, Daniel? What are they doing here?" all my classmates were approaching the window like a herd of bulls. I got closer to the Morties, peering in the direction their gazes were directed.
There was a black, sporty Jeep on the school grounds. A guy next to it was waving his hands. And next to the car, leaning on the hood, stood a blonde girl holding a phone. Most likely, she was their contact.
"Rebecca? And she's here?" Mort was surprised. Of course, the mafia family knew who they were. I was standing there like a fool. And then the brunette looked at me and exclaimed, "I have an idea! Give me an earpiece! Yes, hello, it's me... well, no, he won't kill me. I don't think she needs to be. Listen, do you have some clothes for male models with you? Great! This blonde guy needs them. I know you like blondes. Okay. Thank you."
"What's going on?" I asked in confusion.
"Come on, let's change, you can't walk around in wet clothes. That cute girl over there happened to have extra clothes. She's the head of a modeling agency and she's bringing clothes today. Just in time," the brunette chattered happily.
"No, I didn't agree to this!" I protested.
"Come on, don't be difficult!" the guy snapped at me, grabbing my elbow. His sister followed us, and I was surprised.
"And where are you taking him?" Grace boldly asked.
"Remember, they're still my friends," the mafia girl muttered.
"Over there, in the courtyard, members of the Junior Mafia. What are they doing here?" I heard from the girls passing by.
"I don't know, but I can tell you that this guy is really handsome."
"He may be handsome, but he's a first-rate playboy."
"Damiera Mort!" a shout came when we stepped outside. The mafia girl went ahead and hugged the guy. I realized it was the first time I saw her genuinely smile. I had a strange desire then. I wanted her to smile at me just like she did at him. Oh god, what am I thinking?
The guy turned out to have hair dyed a light golden color, almost like gold. Fraternally, he hugged the brunette and started telling her something, waving a lollipop.
He was completely focused on her, so he didn't notice us. We approached the cute girl as Grace had mentioned.
"Hello," she smiled with a Hollywood smile. "Is it for him? Everything is in the trunk. Take your pick. It seems to me your friend should..." She nodded towards the car.
"Yes," Mort replied shortly and climbed into the Jeep's trunk. I watched the blonde girl with fascination. She was truly beautiful. Tanned skin, a wide smile, dark gray eyes, and wavy, golden hair.
"I'm Rebecca," she held out her hand, and I shook it cautiously.
"Julian," I said briefly.
"I see you're Grace's friend. It's strange, because he hasn't made friends lately. I guess something happened, and my friend's brother is really angry."
"Yes, you guessed right. Your friend's brother?" I stuttered. Although... I feel those unbearable amounts of attention. The main thing is not to look around. All the windows had students looking out, curious about the spectacle. Well, how could they not? The mafia showed up. I wonder what they want.
"Where did you get all this?" the brunette asked, suppressing a laugh.
"Don't forget, after all, it's my car. I was just forbidden to drive. Mueller is enjoying it," she said as she put a chain around my neck and a ring on my finger. I didn't move, let her do whatever she wanted. Just as long as she didn't kill me.
"Stop calling me by my last name. It feels like I'm being scolded," the blonde said, which seemed directed at Demi. But I didn't have time to answer his question because Mort climbed out of the car and took me with him.
"He'll change in the car, okay?" the brunette asked, and I blinked in surprise as they shoved me into the car.
"All right, if he's your friend, then fine," the blonde waved his hand. The car doors closed, and I turned my head. There was a set of full, neatly pressed clothes: a black turtleneck, the same black pants with a silvery belt, and a black leather jacket with various inscriptions in red, yellow, blue, and white. I swallowed saliva, it looked really good, but the road and taking such gifts from the mafia... Oh damn, it's so tempting.
I realized that until I changed clothes, Grace wouldn't let me out of the car. He even leaned on the door of the Jeep on purpose. So be it, I did it and tapped on the glass. He turned around and nodded approvingly. I got out of the car. Daniel let out a prolonged whistle, and Rebecca clapped her hands excitedly.
"Well, that's a different story," Mort said. The mafia girl gave me an approving look.
"But something's missing," Rebecca said, diving into the car and emerging with a small white box. "I never leave my model without being properly prepared."
"Since when did I become a model?" I thought. But... I feel those unbearable amounts of attention. The main thing is not to look around. All the windows had students looking out, curious about the spectacle. Well, how could they not? The mafia showed up. I wonder what they want.
"Where did you get all this?" the brunette asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't forget, after all, it's my car. They just prohibited me from driving. That's why Mueller is enjoying this," she said as she put a chain around my neck and a ring on my finger. I didn't move; let her do whatever she wanted. Just as long as she didn't kill me.
"Enough with the last name. It feels like I'm being scolded," the blonde guy said with a hint of annoyance. When the girl finished, he spoke to Demi, "Alright then, I'm getting into the car. Don't forget about meeting at the cafe this evening. Stay here. If anything, write to us." They exchanged a handshake, and the guy headed for the driver's seat. Grace went off to brag to his sister about his supposedly brilliant plan, leaving me alone with the mafia girl.