Page 106 of Surfer's Paradise

He finally glanced at the screen.

The group chat was now renamed toWHERE’S ISAAC? (feat. jail or cheeks?).

Isaac let out a slow exhale.

He didn’t open it.

He just shook his head once, muttered, “Fucking children,” and hit the gas.

He had to make it through briefing. Gear check. Maybe shoot something. Definitely avoid Shay and Chris unless he wanted a recap of his own meltdown served with a side of smirks.

He reached base ten minutes later, parked in his usual spot, engine idling.

The phone buzzed again.

And again.

He picked it up.

Heath:

Okay bets:

He hit it.

He’s in jail.

Both.

Chris:

Wait.

WHAT IF THEY HOOKED UP

AND SHE STABBED HIM AFTER

FOR EMOTIONAL DAMAGE.

Shay:

Chris

Why are you turned on.

Chris:

I didn’t say I wasn’t.

Colson:

The fact that Isaac didn’t respond to any of us means either:

a) He’s dead

b) He’s happy

c) He’s dead because he’s happy

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