The Beautiful Truth

// 96

I rolled over onto my back again. On either side of me, Talyn and Jason did the same.

"So obnoxious," I muttered.

A week and a half later, this had become routine. I'd get up and run in the early morning before it got too hot to do anything but lay around. Sometimes Talyn ran with me, other times he'd meet Jason for an early 18 holes. By ten a.m., we were all laying at the pool. And there we'd stay until about three or four, depending on how hot it was. On some days, not even getting in the pool was refreshing. It may not have been 146 degrees, but it was at least 93 most days.

"Anything going on tonight?" Talyn ignored me and asked Jason.

"Not that I know of."

"Harlan's?" Talyn suggested with no enthusiasm.

"We were just there last night," I reminded him, closing my eyes and feeling the sun beat down on my sunscreen-slicked skin.

"Well, what do you suggest, SF?" Talyn asked, back-handing my stomach.

I jolted at the impact, slight as it was. "It's not even noon," I complained.

Jason laughed. "If we show up at Harlan's too often, people will start asking questions...like, 'who let the teenagers in here?' And should Talyn Parrish really be drinking that much beer before he goes back to training camp? I know what we can do. Airport Road."

The three of us sat there and thought about it for a moment. Going out to Airport Road with these two usually meant passing around whatever concoction Daddy Mandrino had in stock, me laying in the bed of a truck while Jason and Talyn tossed around a football, telling stories and laughing at each other.

"I could deal with that," I agreed.

"All right. I'll pick you losers up after dinner," Jason twanged.

At least he was supposed to. Apparently, just before dinner, Jason's buddies from OU called and told him to 'get his ass to Norman,' they were going to Nashville. It was random as hell, but then again, so was Jason Mandrino.

"So you still wanna go out there?" Talyn asked, having just delivered the news on my front steps.

I glanced over his shoulder at his truck and listened to the clicking of my dad's keyboard back inside. I shrugged. It had cooled off...slightly.

"Sure, you gonna stop by and get us some beer?"

Talyn grinned. "And some hot dogs, and stuff for s'mores. Let's get goin'."

I laughed softly and rolled my eyes. I dropped the storm door back in place, reemerging seconds later with shoes and a sweatshirt that I may or my not actually need when the sun went down.

Talyn noticed my longsleeve layer balled up under my arm, and raised his eyebrows in silent disbelief as we headed for his truck.

"Unreal," he shook his head as he reached for the ignition and I put my Cal sweatshirt between us.

"What?"

"I'm talking about building a fire, after it was ninety-billion degrees today...and you bring a sweatshirt."

I ignored him in favor of rolling down my window.

Talyn laughed and we headed out. "What do you want to hear?"

I glanced at his dashboard. He had his hand poised over the pre-programmed buttons that I knew were linked to satellite radio.

"Whatever you want," I lied.