Page 102 of Truck Me

“Come on, Garret.” Rayne tugs at my arm. “Stop dragging your feet and let’s go.”

I let out a low grumble at her insistence.

She stops and turns to me with her hands on her hips. “You promised my aunt you’d bring me tonight, so stop growling like a grumpy old bear.”

I narrow my eyes. “Did you just call me old?”

She shrugs. “Well, you are old.”

“Am not,” I mumble as I push past her, heading for the main entrance. I’m not getting out of this, so I might as well get it over with it.

She skips up next to, seemingly happy again. “Aren’t you like forty or something?”

I stop in my tracks. “No. I’m thirty-two.”

“Oh.” She shrugs. “That’s still old.”

I scoff. “Hardly. Now let’s go. Sooner you play some games, the sooner I can go back home.”

“And cookies. We have to get lots of cookies too. And cake if they have some. Will you buy me an entire chocolate cake if someone made one?”

“Sure.” I chuckle at how she skipped right over my comment about wanting to go home. This kid has a one-track mind, centered on fun, and I love it.

I never had fun like this as a kid. I’ve always been grumpy and miserable. Dad never made it easy on me with his constant looks of disgust. He made it clear at a very early age that he wished it were me that died, and not Mom.

Like I had any control over that.

My brothers had fun though, and they tried to pull me into it every chance they got. It worked sometimes, but I figured out at an early age that I liked being alone. It suits me.

“Can we play all the games?” Rayne asks as we near the main entrance.

“If you want.”

“Will you also help me win at all the games?”

I open the door and wave her in ahead of me. “Well, I’ll try. But I’m afraid you asked the wrong Mutter to bring you if winning is your objective. I’m not the best at carnival games. That would be Mac, Chase, or Ash.”

She looks up at me and frowns. “Are they here?”

I shrug. “Dunno. Maybe.”

She stops, puts her hands on her hips, and stares up at me like she’s going to reprimand me for doing something wrong. “Will you text them and ask?”

I cross my arms over my chest and stare down at her. “You’re being demanding today. Can’t we just have fun?”

She copies my stance. “Not if we don’t win.”

“There’s more to life than winning.”

She snorts. “Only losers say things like that.”

I raise a brow. “Are you calling me a loser?”

“No.” She smirks. “You’re calling yourself one. Now will you message your brothers or not? I want to play and win.”

“I don’t know.” I tease. “I think I should make you suffer through all my poor playing skills first. That’ll teach you.”

“Garret! Come on, please.” She clasps her hands together and holds them out in front of her. “I was just kidding.”