“How’s he doing lately?” Anderson asks.
“Oh, uh. Good, I think? We don’t talk all that much unless we’re going to the same place. But every time I’ve seen him, he’s looked good—I mean, seems good.”Way to fucking go. Smooth.
Chapter Ten
Anderson
This is fucking horseshit.
Why must tents be so fuckingannoyingto put up?! And of course, the tent Crew, Weston, and I are staying in is one of those massive, multi-room ones. It’s Weston’s, and he lost the fucking directions, like a nimwit.
Said nimwit is also next to no help. He’s been arguing with his fucking whiny girlfriend on the phone for the last forty-five minutes. Who the fuck starts a fight with someone when theyknowthat person is fucking busy?!
“Man, are you going to hang up at any point and help us with this fucking disaster?” Crew asks, wiping the sweat off his brow. It’s an unusually hot day today, and the sun is beating down on us. We somehow managed to get one of the few spots in the whole park that isn’t shaded by thick trees.Lucky us.
“Jessica, I gotta fucking—” He clamps his mouth shut mid-sentence, and I can hear her yelling at him from here. He sure pissed her off somehow. “Jessica, I gotta fucking go. I’m not doing this. I’ll talk to you later.Bye!” He has to shout the last word to get it out over her yelling.
Sheesh. Glad it’s not me being bitched at today. Calina has been quite pleasant lately.
“Dude, what did you do?”
Scowling at us, he says, “She claims I’ve been shitty at talking to her lately, but hello? I’m on summer vacation and we aren’t anywhere near each other. She’s in Connecticut visiting her cousin, Nicole, for Christ’s sake.”
“Didn’t you guys decide to take a break over summer last year to avoid this very fight?”
“Yes! But when I brought it up before school got out this time, she got offended as fuck. So, I dropped it and here we are.”
“Okay, well, get the fuck over here and help us set this janky ass tent up before we go all Jessica on you too.”
Once all three of us finally put our heads together, it only takes us about twenty minutes to get it set up. We all have campsites next to each other, which is nice. Branson and Luca’s is to our left, and our spots share a nice firepit in the middle. Then Aston and Knox are on the right of ours. This place is packed, so I’m surprised we got spots at all.
For dinner, we barbequed hot dogs and baked potatoes over the firepit. The potatoes actually turned out much better than I thought they would. On the drive here, we stopped and got a shit ton of beer, which has been chilling in the array of coolers we brought with us. We’ve all had a couple already—I’m actually drinking tonight, but will probably regret it in the morning.
Weston got the firepit lit not too long ago, and the sun is finally starting to set. The campground is wild tonight. Music can be heard from multiple different groups, tons of what look to be college kids littering the grounds—dancing, drinking, hooking up.
“Okay, okay,” Weston says, standing up from the log he was seated on. “We’re all going to do a celebratory shotgun for my birthday.” He points his finger at me. “That means you too, buddy.”
“Ugh,fiiiine.”
Weston proceeds to pass out Bud Light cans to everyone, pulling out a pocketknife and puncturing a hole in the side of his. He passes the knife to Aston, who does the same, then passing it to Knox, and so on, until we’ve all punctured our beers.
Branson clears his throat dramatically, lifting his beer can in the air. “Here’s to the storks that bring good babies, the crows that bring bad babies, and the swallows that bring no babies at all. Cheers!”
Aiming the horizontal can slightly downward, I place my mouth over the hole, putting it in an upright position before pulling the tab at the top of the can. A rush of ice cold, crisp liquid floods my mouth as I work my throat to swallow it all down. Of course, since I hardly ever drink, everyone else finishes their beers way before I do, but whatever. I successfully did it. That’s all that matters.
Luca burps and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do one of those, Anderson.”
“That’s because I haven’t.”
“No shit?”
“I’m serious.” I laugh. “It was my first time.”
We all take a seat around the fire as a group of girls walks up to us. “Hey, boys,” the blonde one of the group says. She’s wearing tight white short shorts and a bikini top.
“Well, hello, ladies,” Knox drawls.
“I’m Kelsey,” blondie says. “And this is Alex.” She points to her dark-haired friend, who has on a similar outfit, but instead of white shorts, hers are black.