Dawson had gone out of town for an interview for some internship work-study thing he wanted to do during his fall semester and Raleigh spent the rest of the week counting the hours until Dawson got back. Without Dawson around, Raleigh noticed how much his life sucked. All these years he’d been stuck on repeat and Dawson was the shuffle button.
Raleigh glanced at the clock before leaning into the chassis of a Ford Bronco, torque wrench in hand. Only a half hour until the weekend.
Calvin tapped the Bronco’s door by Raleigh’s head. “You got a package,” he said, handing Raleigh the brown cardboard box with the sss smile emblazoned on the side..
Raleigh tore away the black tape over the flaps. “Dawson back yet?” he asked.
“Probably. You should go over and check. Tell him I’ll be late, gotta
