Page 28 of The Fast Lane
Cal: Thank you.
Me: No problem. Gotta go. I’m going to go price out petting zoos. For no reason at all.
Cal: ALI!
The trouble began twenty minutes later.
Our plan had been to make it to Mack’s place in Amarillo, crash at his house, and leave the next morning to head to Colorado. We were traveling along a particularly desolate stretch of a state highway when it happened. It had been a while since we’d passed through a town, even a tiny one. In fact, the only other thing I’d seen was an exit or two, and sparsely treed roads, miles and miles of that.
Theo turned down the music. “Do you hear that?”
“The delightful, harmonic sounds of One Direction? No, you wouldn’t let me pick the music, remember?”
“No, listen.”
It didn’t take long for a high-pitched whine to make its way to my ears. After Theo opened his window, it only got louder and more pronounced.
“Is that coming from the car?” But no sooner had I asked, when the temperature warning light flashed red on the SUV’s dashboard.
“That’s not good,” Theo muttered.
“Is that smoke?” It was definitely smoke, billowing out from under the hood of the car.
Frantically, Theo pulled off onto the shoulder of the highway. He threw it into park, and we both scrambled out of the car. After backing away a good twenty feet, we watched as smoke poured like a chimney from the car.
“Well, that’s going to be a problem,” Theo said.
What else was there to say?
“I hate the heat.” I swiped at the sweat dripping from my hairline into my eyes…again. “And sweat. I really hate sweat.”
After we realized we had no cell service, our options were limited to lay down and die (not advisable) or start hoofing it to the resort I’d seen a sign for a couple of miles back. It wouldn’t have been so bad except the sun was relentless and I was wearing flip-flops, and I hated the heat and sweating, and I was starting to feel very stabby.
“Tell us how you’re really feeling,” Theo said from his spot a few paces in front of me. He’d taken off his plaid button-down and it was dangling from his neck.
“This place is so desolate. Do you see those vultures?” Pausing, I pointed in front of us at what appeared to be a group circling high in the air over something, probably very dead.
“Yeah, I see them,” Theo said, not stopping at all.
“Do you know how many bodies are probably buried out here?”
“We could make it one more,” Theo said without turning around.
I planted my feet and stuck my fists on my hips. “Wow.”
He took his baseball hat off, his curls shooting out in all directions, and used the sleeve of his plaid shirt to swipe at his forehead. His band t-shirt was a little tighter than what he normally wore, or maybe it was because he wasn’t wearing the button-down, or maybe the sun had begun to fry what few brain cells I had left. Whatever the reason, it pulled across his chest with the movement and I didn’t bother to not stare.
There was something overwhelmingly attractive about Theo, an understated coolness. He might not have the bulging muscles or a rebellious vibe, but I saw women glance his way. At the last convenience store, one woman chatted him up a good five minutes near the potato chip aisle. I’d wanted to toss a can of Pringles at her head.
“You coming?” Theo asked.
Get your head in the game, Ramos.
“I’m coming,” I said with about as much enthusiasm as I could muster.
When I caught up to him, he shoulder-bumped me. “We have to be close to this place. Did you say it was a resort?”
“That’s what the sign said. Resort and spa. Or something like that.” At this point, I’d take a pay-by-the-hour motel with those vibrating beds, as long as there was air-conditioning.