6. Warren
CHAPTER SIX
WARREN
B reakfast sizzles in our one and only frying pan as I flip the sausage patties Mama Carol packed for us. I pop down the toast next and get the butter out of the fridge, ready to spread it on hot. It has to melt completely, neither of us like chunks.
The irresistible smell must wake Kyle because I hear a pained groan coming from the sofa bed.
“You okay in there, buddy?” I holler as I finish up. “Food’s almost ready!”
Kyle stumbles into the kitchen with his eyes half-closed and his blond hair sticking up in every direction. “I didn’t sleep well,” he mutters, attempting to rub the stiffness from his neck. “ And my back is killing me, ” he complains, trying to massage his own shoulder blades, but it’s hard with biceps that large.
I switch the burner off and move the skillet to a hot pad. “Here, let me,” I insist, brushing his hand away. I begin to massage Kyle’s neck, rubbing gently before squeezing his shoulders and upper arms.
His skin is warm and slightly damp, like he was sweating in his sleep.
I use my thumbs to knead slow circles into the tight muscles between his shoulder blades and spine.
Kyle tips his head back, groaning in pleasure as I really dig my thumbs in aggressively.
“Don’t stop,” he mumbles, “hurts so good.”
For some reason my brain misfires, and my dick starts to chub up.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I chalk it up to hormones and figure it’s only going to get worse the longer I go without sex.
The toast pops up, startling me, and I drop my hands, stepping away.
“Thank you,” Kyle says genuinely, rotating his shoulders in slow circles. “I really needed that.”
“No problem.” I clear my throat, buttering the toast and setting everything on the table.
Kyle slides into the bench-style seating and pours himself a glass of orange juice before loading his plate with sausage and fresh fruit.
“I thought we could check out Great Sand Dunes National Park as our first official stop,” I say, steering the conversation away from back massages.
His sleepy eyes light up as he cuts into his sausage patty. I place a slice of buttered toast on his plate, smearing it with grape jelly, just how he likes it.
“Sounds good to me, man. I’m just here for the ride. Wherever you want to take us is cool with me.”
I chuckle at his blind enthusiasm.
This is going to be fun.
He’s usually so structured and in control.
In high school, he was captain of our lacrosse team and student council president. He’s always wanted to become a lawyer, so his major is chosen, and his future mapped out.
Me? I’m still undecided.
I brush thoughts of college away and tell him more about the dunes. “It’s actually the best month of the year to visit. The sand isn’t hot yet, and it shouldn’t be too crowded.”
“How do you know all of this?” Kyle asks as he continues to devour his breakfast. “Thanks for cooking by the way,” he adds. “It hit the spot.”
“I subscribe to a few travel blogs and podcasts,” I admit, shrugging my shoulders. I haven’t really talked about it.
Kyle sets his fork down, grinning widely at me.
“ What? ” I ask a little defensively.
“That would be perfect for you.”
My brows crease. “What would?”
“You should create your own blog,” Kyle says matter-of-factly, like it’s no big deal. He’s smiling so authentically that I almost believe I could. That I’m not destined to be a mechanic for the rest of my life.
“Pshh. Ha. Okay,” I say, dismissing him as I finish my food.
“Why not?” His blond brows draw together.
“For one, I don’t travel. This is the one and only trip I have planned.”
Kyle opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. “I work in an auto shop, Ky. I’m not the type to write poetic musings about life and travel.”
“Except you are, Ren. And you know it. You have a way with words. Always have. We’re going to see and do so much this summer. You should document it, whether you post it online or not. Who knows what the future will bring or where it will take you. This is the trip of a lifetime, and you know it. You said so yourself, Ren. We’re going to see a piece of the world. ”
“You really think this is a good idea, huh?” I ask him, staring into his bright blue gaze that’s wide awake now, despite his bare chest and messy hair.
“When you focus, you can write beautifully. Like really write.” Kyle jumps up, digging through his backpack and retrieving a blue spiral notebook that he slaps onto the dining table, nearly spilling his orange juice. “ Here. Take this and write about the places we visit. Write about your thoughts, and maybe even record your feelings. Use the new camera Val gave you, and it could be perfect. Just think about it,” he insists.
“ Okay, okay. ” I chuckle at how excited he seems about this. “I’ll think about it.”
I guess it does seem like a pretty good idea.
“Let’s clean up and get back on the road. We’ll be at the dunes in a couple hours if we get going now,” I say, grabbing the notebook and tucking it under my arm while I take my paper plate to the trash can. “And please call your mom, bro. You gotta let her know we’re still alive occasionally. I’ve heard your phone vibrate three times since I’ve been awake, and it’s giving me anxiety.”
Kyle laughs, helping me clear the rest of the table before searching for his cell phone in the couch cushions, intent on calling Mama Carol and reassuring her that everything’s okay.
“Are you sure there’s sand out here?” Kyle asks as we drive extremely slow through a cute little town with lampposts wrapped in lights and snow-capped mountains in the distance.
I bet it’s beautiful at night.
“Seems like we’re in the middle of nowhere, Ren.”
“Listen, Ky. I promise we’re going the right way. It’s literally impossible to get lost with GPS.” I point to my smartphone strapped to the dash of the RV.
“Have you met my mom?” Kyle deadpans.
I bark out a loud laugh as we finally leave town, and the dunes come into view.
“Look!” I gasp, taking one hand off the wheel to point at the sand dunes in the distance.
“ So cool, ” Kyle whispers, leaning forward to stare out the front window as we quietly take it all in.
Wait until he finds out what we’re doing.
I paid for our park passes online, so we go through the entrance easily.
“Let’s stop at the welcome center,” Kyle insists, and I’m relieved he’s excited about this.
I park the big-ass RV in the back, and soon enough we’re browsing a collection of magnets, shot glasses, and ugly T-shirts with Great Sand Dunes National Park printed on them.
I grab a vintage-looking postcard, check out with the old man behind the counter and tuck it into my back pocket before Kyle even notices.
I go back to browsing the aisles, catching up with him near the vending machines.
“Let’s take a picture at the observation point. Come on,” Kyle insists, grabbing my wrist and tugging me through the gift shop.
His skin feels rough against mine, not soft like a girl’s. His hands are big. Larger than my own.
His grip is strong.
Firm.
Why the hell am I thinking about the way my best friend’s skin feels?
I snap out of it by the time we get to the lookout point.
“ Wow. It’s beautiful,” Kyle gushes as he stares out at the rolling hills of golden-brown sand.
The dunes seem endless and grand, like we’re just a spec of sand ourselves, lost in the sea of billions.
“Yeah,” I agree wholeheartedly. “Kinda amazing this is so close to home.”
“And we’ve never been here until now,” Kyle finishes for me.
I pull out the camera Val got me and take an awkward selfie with him while trying not to drop it. Luckily, a kind old woman offers to take our photo, introducing herself as Gladys.
“Oh! I’m familiar with these things,” she says, talking about the Polaroid. “Much better than all that new smart technology, in my opinion.”
We both chuckle, posing in front of the dunes with our arms around each other, smiling wide.
Gladys holds the camera up to her eye and aims. “ Smile! ” she shouts, pressing the capture button with a click.
A familiar whirring noise goes off as the photo is exposed and ejected.
Kyle and I release each other, turning around and gazing at the dunes one more time before we leave the lookout.
They really are spectacular, and for a moment, I forget all about Gladys standing behind us and the girl problems we’re running from. I haven’t been this happy in a while, and as I glance over at my best friend standing next to me, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t either.
Another flash goes off, and I realize I’ve been caught staring.
“Thank you, Gladys,” I say politely, taking the camera and photos from her. I smile kindly at the old lady, willing her to leave, and when she does, I look down, coming face to face with a candid shot of me staring intensely at Kyle.
For some reason, the photo seems extremely personal, and I shove it in my back pocket with the hidden postcard.
“Let me see,” Kyle insists, laughing until he realizes I’m dead-ass serious. “You’re really not gonna let me see it?” His smile slowly dies out.
I fold my arms across my chest, shaking my head.
What else is there to say?
I’m not showing him.
A look of hurt flashes through Kyle’s eyes before he steels himself. “That’s dumb. But whatever.”
We head back to the RV, and I can tell he’s annoyed with me, but I hide the picture in my toiletry bag nonetheless. I take the other one that Gladys snapped of us and use a wooden clothespin to clip it to the twine and fairy lights that loop across one side of the RV. I slip the postcard out of my back pocket and clip it next to the photo, turning the fairy lights on.
I’m hoping this will make Kyle smile and forget about the other photo.
“Wow,” he says with a small grin. “That’s going to be so cool by the time we’re done.”
“Yup,” I say, grabbing a long-sleeve flannel and slipping it on. “We need to bring layers so we can take items on and off as needed.” I tie a zip-up hoodie around my waist and slip an extra hair band around my wrist just in case. I can’t risk letting all this hair loose in the wind.
Kyle nods and starts digging through his bag. I really hope he’ll get over the photo drama and have fun today.
“There are no trees, no shrubs, and no buildings,” I tell him. “We’ll be completely exposed to the elements out there—the sun, the wind, the sand—so we need to protect ourselves.”
I spray sunscreen on both of us next, stuffing the bottle into my backpack, along with a couple of water bottles, protein bars, and hand towels.
We stopped at a local store right outside the park to rent sandboards for two days, and the way Kyle’s eyes lit up, you’d have thought it was Christmas morning.
We grab our helmets and strap them to our backpacks. Without managing to forget any other vital details like baseball hats and sunglasses, we hop out of the RV and into the bright sun.
To get to the dunes, we have to cross a wide but shallow creek that separates the sand from the parking lot. We take our shoes and socks off and tuck our sandboards under our arms to cross it.
Cool water rushes over my toes, distracting me from everything.
“This feels nice,” Kyle says with a warm smile on his face. I wish I could see his blue eyes through his lenses, but they're too dark.
“This is going to be so fun,” I murmur, gazing up at the tall dunes in front of us. Nothing but gold sand and rolling hills surround us.
“Hell yeah,” Kyle cosigns.
After we cross the creek, we quickly dry our feet off and slip our socks and shoes back on.
“You ready?” I ask, and before I can stop him, Kyle races up the dune. I laugh, chasing after him.
When we get to the top of the hill, we strap our helmets on and toss our rented sandboards to the ground, getting situated.
“Just like snowboarding,” I say before taking the first ride.
At first I’m sailing—the wind blowing and the sun shining—but then the tip of my board gets stuck, and I lurch forward, falling face-first into the sand. “ Fuck! ” I shout, spitting the grit out. “ That’s disgusting. ” I wipe my mouth on my shoulder, grabbing a water bottle from my small backpack to rinse it out.
After a few more falls that practically fill my underwear with sand, I’m done.
Fucking over it.
As I’m sitting on top of one of the smaller hills, a blond streak zooms down the biggest dune next to me, dressed in a white hoodie and almost blending into the environment.
Kyle is killing it, of course. He’s great at everything—every sport he tries, every subject in school, and usually every relationship he gets into.
Unlike me.
But that’s okay, because we’re out here to have a good time and forget about what’s-her-face, and I think I’m doing a pretty damn good job of that right about now. I watch as Kyle climbs back up, once again shredding the hell outta the dunes.
I lose sight of him, so I stare off into the distance. It’s magical when you’re out on top of the dunes. The wind drowns out all other sound as it whips around you. When I look one way, it appears as though there’s an endless sea of sand, whereas if I look the other way, I see grasslands and distant mountains.
The beauty and wonder of this place could inspire anyone.
“ Hey. ” Kyle drops his board and plops down, startling me out of my thoughts.
He’s breathing heavily, so I grab a water bottle out of my backpack and hand it over.
“Thanks,” he gasps before chugging half the thing.
“Have fun out there?” I ask, but I don’t mean it the way it sounds. “Sorry, Ky. Just wish I rented one of the sleds now. I didn’t realize I’d be such shit at sandboarding.” I laugh it off, even though it’s sort of a bummer.
Kyle throws his heavy arm around my shoulders, pulling me in closely. “Cheer up, Ren. There’s always tomorrow. Let’s head back to the RV and get cleaned up, maybe have a beer and chill out.”
It’s not even five o’clock, but I don’t care, I’m on vacation. I knock my head against Ky’s helmet. “Sounds good, bro. Let’s get the hell outta here.”