Page 17 of The Bro Pact
I snort and roll my eyes, shaking my head. “TMI, Ren!”
He cackles as he likely uses all the hot water cleaning the sand out of his various crevices.
“Just hurry up, seriously!” I guzzle more Coke, letting the fizzy bubbles burn on the way down.
A few minutes later, the shower finally cuts off. The door opens and a cloud of steam billows out.
Yep. No hot water for me.
A bath towel is wrapped low around Warren’s waist, but I glance away, finishing my drink and grabbing my pile for the shower. I lock the door behind me and drop my towel and pajamas to the ground, turning the shower back on and hoping it’ll heat up enough so that this isn’t miserable.
I step into the lukewarm water, grabbing the body wash and my loofah and quickly washing up, paying special attention to my own crevices.
Sand swirls in circles at the bottom of the tub before disappearing down the drain. Once I’m clean, I quickly shampoo my hair and step out before the water goes completely cold.
I dry off and change into a comfy pair of gray sweats and my favorite T-shirt. It has a few holes in the soft blue fabric, but there’s just something about it. My mom likes to tease me that it’ll be a pile of strings the next time I pull it out of the dryer.
When I step out of the bathroom, I leave the door open, allowing all of the moisture from two back-to-back showers to air out.
Warren is at the table with all the fixings for sandwiches laid out: bologna, American cheese, bread, mayo, and mustard. It’s not the most gourmet, but it looks good to me.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving since we kinda skipped lunch. I couldn’t wait for dinner,” he says around a mouthful. His long hair is wet and dripping down his bare back.
We were out on the dunes for most of the afternoon, only eating power bars and drinking water, but the sun still hasn’t set, so I guess this is lunch, not dinner.
“Yeah, I’m starving too.” I slip into the booth-style seat in front of him.
The TV is on, quietly playingThe Goonies. We don’t have internet in this old RV, just our phones and a DVD player, so I was sure to pack a few of our favorite old movies.
I reach for the loaf of bread, but Ren stops me. “Oh, here. I made you one. Mustard instead of mayo, just how you like it.” He hands me a plate with a sandwich cut down the middle.
“Thanks, Ren.” I smile crookedly and sprinkle some salt and vinegar chips on the side.
We dig in, both of us refueling in silence. It was a fun day, but my legs and back are definitely feeling it. Especially after sleeping on that shitty sofa bed last night.
Fuck, I’m not looking forward to that again.
After we finish eating and put the food away, we continue lounging around and move to the couch to watch the rest of the movie. It’s been one of our favorites since we were little, and now it sort of feels like we’re finally on our own adventure. Just the two of us.
“We need to move Carmen to the campsite before it gets dark. The sun’s starting to set,” Ren whispers as he gently shakes my arm.
“Hmm?” I lift my head off his bare shoulder, realizing I must have fallen asleep.
I sit up straight, stretching my arms and arching my back until it pops.
Warren chuckles. “Nice nap?”
I feel the heat in my cheeks, but I smile and nod.
The credits are rolling, so Ren shuts the TV off. “Let’s sit up front. We gotta drive to the campsite.”
“Are we staying inside the National Park?” I ask, crawling through to the passenger seat as best I can with my large body.
Ren starts the engine. “Yeah, we’re only driving a couple miles down that way.” He points off into the distance and I hum, buckling my seatbelt.
We pull up to the campsite just as the sun is starting to set. Streaks of orange, red, and pink spill over the dunes like an abstract work of art.
“Spectacular, isn’t it?” Ren asks softly, and I realize we’ve already parked, and the engine is off. Glancing around, I see a few other small campers and RVs spread out, but it’s entirely private and secluded.
