Nicole
“Well isn't that just great,” Zach murmured as we hit the third red light in the past ten minutes.
“There's no need to be so dramatic,” I teased, the only response I got was an eye roll.
Unfortunately for us, red lights weren't our only problem. Less than five minutes later, we hit a stretch of road under construction, forcing us to take a detour through backroads that were anything but smooth.
“This is ridiculous,” Zach muttered, gripping the steering wheel tightly as the car jostled over a particularly rough patch on the road that I assumed to be a pothole.
“You need to chill,” I told him, “It was probably just a pothole.”
He opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by a loud thud.
“Oh, come on,” he groaned, pulling over once again.
We both got out of the car to inspec
