15
Tank
The bike has half a tank of gas, so I ride a few hours before I take a pit stop. Before I hit the road, I texted Garrett and a few others. Apparently, they had an adventure in Mexico, but everyone’s safe home now. They’ll debrief everyone at the pack meeting, and I let them know I’d be back in time for that. I’ll ride all day without stopping except for gas. Let the road and fresh air shake the memory of the last few days, trippy hippie humans and foxy ladies with Looney Tunes hair.
Foxfire. f**k.
Dad was right. Women are crazy.
I don’t even know what happened back there, but I feel like a freight train just ripped through the center of my chest.
When I stop for gas, I turn on my phone. A few missed calls, the newest from an unknown number, and my dad. I call him back.
“Son?
