Thirty-Six
Brody
“I’ll have him home by five,” I assured Antoine’s mother as we left his apartment.
We walked out to the street and Antoine grimaced when he saw Wes’s car.
“The crapmobile again?”
Yes, I was happy the name was catching on. Wes would hate it.
“You complain about the Tesla, and you complain about the crapmobile. What do you want?” I asked him as we got inside.
“Isn’t there something in between the two. It’s embarrassing ridin’ in this thing,” he said, sliding low in the seat so he couldn’t be seen through the window.
“Imagine being so dramatic,” I joked.
“Isn’t your brother rich like you? Why can’t he afford a better car?”
“Wes doesn’t care about material things, like cars, yachts, clothes, watches, shoes … You get the idea.”
“Wait, what’s a yacht?” Antoine asked.
