When the school’s sewage backs up, it overflows down here. That’s the main reason, other than the smell, why many of the teams refuse to practice here. Eli informing me of that fun little tidbit after the fact.
His hand flies to his mouth. I assume it’s to cover the scent of earthy mildew, but then he snorts a laugh.
“I just don’t understand how you didn’t know this. I mean, if you think this is bad, imagine during the middle of summer. It’s worse than Finn’s ass after too many hard-boiled eggs.”
My nose scrunches. “I can use my imagination, thanks.” The added visual unhelpful. “The irrelevancy of why or how, also not necessary.”
He arches his head back on a howl of laughter and I shoot him a scowl. This will be the first and last time I park here.
I should’ve known better, eyeing the less than a handful of others around me. I assumed I’d been early to the leftover lot.
Nope, just dumb.
I walk around, inspecting the other side. I didn’t think the stench could get more rotten, but much to my surprise, the smell is, in fact, worse on this side.
“Will you help or not?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eli responds. “Did you try putting it in drive?”
I shoot him another fleeting look and his arms shoot out in defense. Smart man.
“Hey, I’m only checking. You never know.”
“This isn’t some type of user error”—well, it is, but it isn’t—“yes, I tried driving it out!” I exclaim, frustrated at my own stupidity.
The mud’s too caked by this point after several hours of sitting. Sticking to the rims like wet cement to a dog’s paws.
“Alright, well let’s try it again. Climb in and I’ll see what I can do.”
Nodding, I do the same as last time. Gunning the gas after I start the vehicle and the same thing happens as before. Defeated, I let off the pedal no more out of the situation than before.
If anything, my tires have slipped deeper into the soft earth.
Flinging, the door opens, my head whips around so fast the ends of my hair hit me in the eyes. I push them away as much as I’m dazed while trying not to crack a grin.
Eli taps at my knee, and I lift without restraint.
A snort of a sound escapes before I can help it. “Eli, I’m sorry…”
“Save it,” he grunts. Pulling out the floor mats. A large chunk of mud coats the entire left half of his body.
Another small noise erupts, slipping as it comes out of my mouth. His hair, face, shirt, pants, all one gooey brown mess. Maybe I shouldn’t have closed the door and left the volume up to max on the stereo.
My bad.
He wipes at a large chunk across his eye. Smearing it, it splatters to the grass.
“Next time, don’t floor it, ease into it, yeah?”
I bob my head, diligent to follow along this time, while desperately failing not to laugh some more.
Wordlessly, he leans over my lap instead of climbing out and going to the other side. Careful not to get me or the inside of my jeep dirty. Yanking, the quilted leather liner on the floor of the passenger side comes out easy. Same as the one below my feet.
Turning down the knob on the radio, he shoots me a look over his shoulder before hopping back down.
“It’ll give it some traction,” he says before I can ask. Talking about the mats. “Hope you aren’t too attached to these.”
I’m not.