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“Where’s Bodhi?” Garrick raises an eyebrow and casts a look at Imogen. Her eyes dart to the middle seat on the truck bench, more commonly known as ‘Bodhi’s Bitch Seat,’ and studies its occupant. The man is very much not Bodhi. Too many freckles. Not enough legs.
She shrugs and fiddles with the radio dial. An angry rock song wails from the truck’s blown-out speaker.
Sawyer clears his throat awkwardly before he answers. “Xaden’s car.”
He’d climbed in the truck and buckled in while the other two were still loading up the back, not wanting to give anyone the chance to object. Nor Bodhi a chance to change his mind.
Garrick’s brow furrows like he can’t believe that his friend would willingly trade places to ride with his cousin, his cousin’s girlfriend, and her best friends instead of him. But he doesn’t ask and Sawyer isn’t going to explain his complete and utter humiliation to these two. Thank God they’d spent enough time in the ocean to hide the evidence of his disastrous ride to the beach.
“Alright, then.” Garrick climbs into the driver seat and slams the door behind him. It takes two tries to get the engine to turn over when he twists the key in the ignition. Sawyer’s nose wrinkles as a faint burning smell fills the cabin. The check engine light flashes on the dashboard, but neither Imogen nor Garrick pay it any attention. Garrick turns the crank to open his window. “AC doesn’t work.”
Imogen looks at Sawyer like he’s the dirt on the bottom of her shoe. “Any particular reason for changing the seating arrangement?”
Garrick puts the truck in reverse and begins to back out of the parking space. Sawyer feels the tips of his ears get hot and he sinks a little in the seat. Stupid. It’s not like he can hide from them.
“I won’t ride back with them,” he whispers. “I won’t.”
“Weirdo.” Imogen turns away from him, leaning against the passenger side window. Her eyes close.
Sawyer’s insides squirm. If Imogen naps, then he’ll have to spend the whole drive talking to Garrick and out of everyone on this trip, he knows Garrick the least. Not that he knows Imogen all that well but at least they have classes together.
He didn’t have to worry because Garrick didn’t say anything. He jabs at the radio, stopping when he lands on an old country song and starts singing along about his achy-breaky heart. Garrick is not a good singer.
They pull out onto the road, following Xaden’s Audi and quickly fall behind. The old truck just can’t keep up.
“Damnit!” Garrick swears. He flings his arm out to get Imogen’s attention, smacking Sawyer in the stomach in the process. “Fucking wake up and navigate.”
“You navigate,” Imogen snarks back.
“I’m driving.”
“So you should know where you’re going.”
They argue like an old married couple and Sawyer wonders if they even remember he’s there. Is this what it was like for Bodhi all the time? No wonder he traded places with Sawyer so eagerly.
Garrick grumbles something to himself and starts mashing buttons on his phone. The truck swerves. There’s no handle for Sawyer to hold onto so he grabs the seat cushion for dear life.
“Jesus fuck, Garrick!” Imogen hollers, right in Sawyer’s ear. “Watch where you’re going, jackass.”
“I’m trying to set up the GPS since you refuse to help.”
“I could help,” Sawyer offers but neither of his companions acknowledge him.
Garrick goes back to messing with his phone but luckily they stay on the road this time. He does blow a stop sign though.
Sawyer’s fingers grip the seat, knuckles going white. He was going to fucking die in this death trap of a truck. Sawyer isn’t sure he believes in God, but he figured it can’t hurt so he sends up a prayer to help him get through this in one piece.
“Whatever.” Imogen crosses her arms and looks pointedly out the window.
Garrick goes back to singing. Sawyer isn’t very familiar with country music, but he’s pretty sure Honky Tonk Badonkadonk isn’t the best the genre has to offer. Imogen’s legs jiggle in irritation. After a couple seconds of ignoring Garrick though, she loses patience.
“Turn this crap off.”
Imogen leans forward and changes the station. The song changes mid-lyric from ‘Got it goin' on like Donkey Kong’ to ‘I cry when angels deserve to die.’
Sawyer sinks even lower on the bench. Maybe death isn’t such a bad option for him after all. At the very least, he’s going to need to find some new friends when they get back to campus.
Finally, the GPS, barely audible over Imogen’s music, says, “Turn Left.”
Garrick is in the right lane and swears. Heroically, he tries to get over, but doesn’t make it before the turn.
“Fuck, Imogen.” He slams his hand against the steering wheel. “You know I can’t drive with this stuff on.”
Garrick changes the station and, hearing the song, smiles. He turns the volume up and begins to sing along.
“Literally no one thinks your tractor's sexy, Garrick.”
She pushes his hand away from the radio, slamming into Sawyer, rattling his bones.
“Oof,” he grunts, only to go ignored…once again. No apology or anything. She didn’t even flinch.
The opening notes of ‘Enter Sandman’ blare inside the truck. Imogen cranks the volume up as far as it will go. The bench vibrates. Sawyer claps his hands over his ears to try and dampen the sound stabbing at his ear drums. Garrick's phone falls onto the ground. No one can hear the directions but Sawyer is pretty sure that Garrick was supposed to turn there.
Garrick yanks on the wheel and the truck skids around a corner. He changes the radio again and Sawyer actually knows this one. ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.’
He throws out his hand and stiff arms Imogen so she can’t change the station. They drive a block and then Garrick pulls into a parking lot and shuts off the engine. His eyes are blazing and he stares at Imogen with a heated expression.
“Get out,” he says, acknowledging Sawyer for the first time since they started driving.
“What?” Sawyer asks. He looks nervously at Imogen, but she’s staring at Garrick like she’s about to tear him apart.
“I said,” Garrick answers, not taking his eyes off Imogen, “get out, new Bodhi.”
“I–” Sawyer searches for something to say but nothing comes to mind. “Why?”
“Old Bodhi knew better than to ask questions.”
Sawyer unbuckles and climbs over Imogen because he’s honestly more afraid of them right now than being lost on the streets. Although, his phone is dead and he has no idea where he’s at or how to get home from here. He thinks he left his wallet in Xaden’s Audi too.
“What am I supposed to do?” He asks, misery lacing his words.
But they don’t answer. They don’t even hear him. Imogen had already slammed the truck door shut behind him.
There’s a bench on the other side of the truck, and since Sawyer has nowhere to go, he walks over to it and sits down. Bracing his elbows on his knees, he buries his face into his hands. This was the worst fucking day of his life. First he pissed his pants, then he nearly died, and now he was alone and probably going to be stranded here forever. He was never going to let Ridoc talk him into a road trip ever again.
He listens for the sound of the truck driving away, but it never comes. Instead, there’s a strange creaking sound. The piece of junk must have gotten stuck. Something pink got tossed out the open window and Sawyer looks up to see Imogen’s bikini top caught on the truck side mirror.
Horror creeps into Sawyer’s stomach as he takes in the rocking frame. The steam on the windshield. He can see Garrick’s bareback hovering over the bench in the cabin. Imogen’s little gasps float out into the night through the truck’s open window.
They’re fucking in the truck. Fucking like they’d done it a hundred times before. In the truck. The truck where he’d been sitting. On the only bench.
He was going to be sick. Sawyer bends forward, positioning his head between his knees and waits for it to be over.
Fifteen minutes later, the truck starts back up and Sawyer’s head snaps up. Garrick is hanging out the driver side door, smirking at him. He motions with his head to the seat.
“Come on, New Bodhi, or we’ll leave you behind.”
Sawyer winces. He knew he should have stayed on campus to study with Liam today. Road trips suck.