She went over to tell Dad her choice, and the two of them signed the necessary paperwork together.
“Good choice, the Ritter.” Dad said, as he filled out her end. “It’s what I would’ve wanted, too.”
“Sorry?”
“As in, if I were gonna get you a car, I would’ve gotten that one. It’s the most sensible one.”
Dad smiled at her with pride, and not wanting to seem unappreciative, she smiled back. Inside, though, she began to panic that, if what she’d bought was appealing to him, perhaps she had gotten the completely wrong car.
But no, no it was the right one. She’d assessed all the cars, and it was definitely the best for her needs.
That is what she kept trying to tell herself as she drove towards the get-together. This was the first time, in fact, that she’d driven it since she took it home on Thursday; the papers from the sale were even still sitting on the passenger seat.
Thinking back, the Ritter hadn’t been the most luxurious, or the most flashy, or the newest… Honestly, if she was gonna go the sensible route she should’ve just gotten the Allen. Or no, she should’ve focused on looks alone, and gone with the Matterhorn. Or wait, maybe the Regal?-
Come on, she said to her self. Stop panicking; The Waldersee was the right car. its far too late to go back now, so the Ritter has to be the right one…
…
Reaching the end of the driveway, she saw the field where everyone was pulling in; Caleb’s CTS, Madelyn’s A5, Rafa’s Encore, Crystal’s XC70, and many more were all here, already starting to form a grid facing a screen on the far end of the lawn. Tony’s Dad had also put up signs instructing kids how to park, and advising everyone to stay 6ft away from each other (that last tip seemed to go largely ignored, however).
Tony, who’d been talking to Caleb and Rafa near the entrance, noticed her car pulling in and went over to greet her. Preparing to show off the car, Isabel rolled down the windows on both sides.
“Oh, hey Isabel. Is this your new car?”
“Yeah!”
“Dang, alright! I like the color.” By this point, several other students had noticed her arrival, and were crowding around the car.
“So what year is this?” asked Rafa. “2000? 2001?”
Isabel, who wanted to play up the car as much as possible, felt somewhat annoyed. “It’s, uh… 2010, I think.”
“2007, it says. Also, holy crap Isabel, you bought this yourself!?”
Isabel looked over in surprise to see that Caleb, impulsive as he often was, had reached in her window and grabbed her sales records off the passenger seat. “Dude, what the hell! Put that down, don’t look at it!!”
Most of the other kids sided with Isabel here, and helped convince Caleb to put the papers down; but the truth about the purchase was already out.
“Man, you own your own car? …lucky!”
“Bruh, I wish I could choose my own car. The Volvo my parents got is ugly AF.”
“Yeah, I hate Buicks. I-it’s literally, like, an uglier and overpriced version of what I wanted. But ‘meh, safety features!’”
“God, Mom won’t even let me have the keys. I have to ask every time I want to go somewhere. It sucks!”
“My parents are the same way! Like, they’re always whining about how ‘we pay the insurance’ and ‘we pay the gas’ and I can’t even go to Dairy Joy unless they give me money. Like just screw off!”
“I wish I had my own money. To just, hang out and not have to put up with their BS and crap.”
“Yeah, that’d be awesome. Like, then I could actually buy something I wanted, like…”
The conversation drifted off, with the students generally in awe and envy that someone their age might have the financial independence to buy something of their own, let alone a car. As for Isabel, she sat there a bit stunned; after all her work to exaggerate how much money she had, that Caleb had seen the sales documents anyway, including the price in big bold letters …and yet that wasn’t what stood out to him?