Canaan groaned. “That’s all Kelly—the band manager. He’s a real outdoorsy type. Did camp counseling when the rest of us were working typical teen shit jobs in the summer.”
“I think I like Kelly already.”
“You will,” Canaan assured him. “And he was always dragging us to monuments and shit in Europe. I saw more churches than I ever care to again. But his thing about scenic overlooks was kinda cool. Anyway, the band is back from their latest European tour and booked with a Phoenix show next week, so Kelly was all about planning this side trip to the Grand Canyon area. Kelly and I stayed tight, so he invited me to come along.”
“That makes sense. Are they playing closer to San Diego too?”
“Yeah. They’ve got gigs scheduled all around the west for the next several months before they hunker down and cut their next studio album. Not sure if I’ll go see them when they’re local or not,” he admitted. “It’s weird, seeing them and hearing our music, but not being a part of that world anymore.”
“I feel you.” Renzo glanced over at him, sympathy apparent in his dark eyes. “Going home is weird for me for a lot of reasons, but it’s always so strange being around the high school crowd again. They all got married and had babies and stayed local and see each other all the time. It’s like you said, a world I’m not a part of anymore.”
“Getting older sucks.”
“Wouldn’t say that. Couldn’t pay me to be fifteen again.” Renzo laughed.
“I wanna see a picture of you at fifteen,” Canaan countered. “I think I need to see you pre-boot camp makeover.”
“No way.” Renzo shook his head. “No one needs to see that.”
“I do.” Canaan was confident he could wheedle a pic out of Renzo at some point. “I think it’s part of the boyfriend gig. I gotta see your embarrassing snaps.”
“If that’s how you’re gonna play, I’m demanding one of your band friends show me some high school pics.”
“They’ll probably show you even if you don’t ask. We all went to a performing arts high school together, and there are tons of pics.”
In front of them, traffic slowed, and Renzo groaned. “Canaan...you said this would be faster. But is that a cow truck?”
“Yes, city boy, that’s some sort of livestock truck. They probably can’t go the speed limit, but I bet you’ll be able to pass them soon. Patience.” Canaan could practically hear Renzo’s teeth grinding, so he added, “I’ll start looking for a place for a snack. Bet there’s a tiny taco place or something soon. Maybe you’re hangry.”
That earned him an eye roll. “I know how to skip meals—plenty of times we’ve only got MREs or protein bars while out in the field. We don’t get hangry. But, sure, find us something. I’m not a huge Mexican food fan, but if you want tacos, I’ll make do.”
“Dude. How can you not love tacos?” Canaan looked ahead to what they might find at the junction for I-10 where some smaller towns were clustered. “Can you do a salad? Found a top rated place for tacos, including breakfast tacos which is what I want, but the ratings thing says they’ll also do a grilled chicken salad thing. And then you can pick where we stop next.”
“Sure.” Renzo reached down and turned up the music again before finally getting to pass the farm truck. He was easy like that, which Canaan really liked. It was fabulous hanging out with someone who knew how to compromise. They jammed out together until they arrived at the small town with its abundance of fast food options and a few local gems like the one Canaan had found.
“No eating in the truck,” Renzo reminded him as he found a place to park in the rear of the small white building with a red tile roof. A deep porch covered some tables and benches.
“Yes, control freak.” Canaan really was looking forward to unraveling that part of Renzo. Soon. Maybe even today. “It’s still cool out. We can eat outside.”
When Renzo didn’t immediately move to get out of the truck, Canaan studied him carefully. Waiting. Maybe...
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” Canaan faked ignorance.
“Like you want me to kiss you.”
“Is that a trick question?” Canaan tried to make Renzo smile by waggling his eyebrows at him. Didn’t work.
“I’m not kissing you in the middle of nowhere.”
“That’s fine. But I’m just saying, I don’t require romance or the perfect setting. I mean, not getting interrupted would be ideal, but I’m not picky and I don’t think the cacti over there care what we do in here.”
Renzo made a frustrated noise, which only made Canaan laugh harder.
“Tell you what. I’ll get hot sauce. Then you won’t be as tempted when we get back to the truck.”