Caleb
"Still getting no signal." I sighed, tossing my phone down onto my bed.
Aaron looked up from where he was sitting on a rickety, old wicker chair that looked as if it had been salvaged from a dumpster. He was devouring a cheesy gordita crunch from Taco Bell.
"Are you sure you don't want another one?" he offered, gesturing to the tabletop picnic in front of him.
I scrunched my nose. "Nah, thanks, I'm good," I replied, having lost my appetite, no thanks to the musty smell in the cheap, crappy, hotel room.
Aaron gave an indifferent shrug.
"Alright, don't say I didn't offer," he muttered, then went right back to eating.
I rolled my eyes. "Go easy on that crap, Aaron. It plays havoc with your irritable bowel syndrome, and I'm stuck sharing a room with you," I grumbled, still pissed
