"wear something good" his words still echoed in my head but what do I have that fits with the word "good".

"I'll guess, you don't have something good enough to wear" he said while his hands were relaxed on the steering wheel.

He was sounding rude but I didn't see a hint of rudeness or sarcasm on his face, perhaps this was his preferred way of talking.

"Sorta" I replied. He kept quiet and I felt uncomfortable, I whined down the window of the car for fresh air since the atmosphere of the car was getting heated and suffocating.

The cool breeze from the rain filled the car and I...