Page 27 of The Bro Pact
I’ve never paid attention before . . .
I shake my head, focusing back on the conversation instead of continuing to check out my best friend.
Something must be wrong with my head.
Maybe I’m dehydrated.
“But actually, fuck that,” Warren shouts. “No girls for three months, remember? I’m growing a bush!” He tips his head back, cackling wildly at his own crass joke.
His chest shakes with laughter and his abs bunch up, drawing my eye yet again. I glance away, grabbing my waterbottle and chugging half of it, hoping to forget these strange feelings I’ve been having way too often lately.
CHAPTER TEN
WARREN
After fueling up and a relaxing lunch at the duck pond, we’re back on the road, headed to this cool place called Ames that I found while reading aUtah Ghost Townspost on one of the blogs I follow.
I can’t wait to see the look on Kyle’s face when he first lays eyes on it.
Coasting along the dusty old highway with nothing but red rock for miles, I hum along to the Spotify playlist I have on repeat, chewing on some beef jerky.
“Make sure you limit yourself after what happened two summers ago,” Kyle warns.
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave him off, taking a big gulp of water.
“I mean it, Ren. Or did you forget?”
He’s referring to the time that I ate a whole bag of jerky and two Slim Jims in one sitting and became ridiculously thirsty. Likescarythirsty.
I couldn’t stop chugging glasses of water and was about to drive myself to the hospital until I Googled it. Basically, I consumed way too much sodium and dehydrated myself.
“I didn’t forget,” I grumble, shoving the bag at him roughly. “Here.It’s all yours.Enjoy.”
Kyle chuckles, munching on a few pieces before shoving the rest of the bag in the glove compartment.
With just under an hour to go, a clunking noise starts to rattle as the engine sputters out.
No. No. No.
“Fuck!Carmen, don’t do this to me,” I beg, hitting my palm against the steering wheel multiple times.
I pull the RV off the road and onto the shoulder, putting the hazard lights on.
I’m going to have to pop the hood and take a look. Hopefully it’s something simple that I can fix right now, or we’re fucked, and this trip is over.
“Kyle, scoot over here and pull this lever when I tell you, okay? It’s the hood release.”
He nods, and I hop out to lift the front of the RV in order to give me access to the engine. But as soon as I touch the hood, I realize it’s too fucking hot. “Ahh!Sonofabitch, motherfucker!”
I’m too goddamn impatient.
I shake my hand and walk away from Carmen before I do something I’ll regret, like kicking her and ending up with a hurt foot, too.
Kyle hops out and runs over to me, worry shining in his bright blue eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. It’s fine. I’m just a dumbass.” I whip my white tank top off, ready to sacrifice it for the greater good. I use it to wrap my hand before I ask Kyle to get back in and try again. “Pull it!” I shout, lifting the hood at the same time.
It works and I prop it open, starting checks on all the connections.
