After Hours (boyxboy) | ✓

Chapter Twenty-Six

I stared out the window, waiting for my ride. A blood-red van, with muddy tires and a dusty windshield. Reuben’s baby (as he called it). His hand-me-down van. He had received it on his sixteenth birthday. Not the nicest car — it was his dad’s for ten years prior — but it worked. And it could fit eight people.

Finally, the van rolled into the driveway. I grabbed my backpack and jumped off the couch. My mom wasn’t home, but I had left her a note (hopefully that’d be enough to save me from getting grounded). I skipped out the front door and to my friend’s car. The passenger’s seat was already occupied by Mags. So I slid into the back. No one else was here yet.

“Morning, pal,” Reuben turned to greet me. Mags whipped her head around and smiled. Her perfect teeth glistened, aside from one piece of basil stuck between her canines.

“Hi, Emmett!” she exclaimed before turning back around.

I smiled. “Hey guys. You’ve got something in your teeth, Mags. Oh, and it’s not the morning anymore, Reuben.”

Mags gasped and pulled out her phone to look in the camera. Reuben cackled at her panic. She glared at him and picked at her teeth, until she found the culprit. 

“I woke up ten minutes ago,” he said. I rolled my eyes as he drove out the driveway. Mags shook her head. He probably woke up hours ago. And judging by the basil, he and Mags had already been to lunch.

Amy was probably our next passenger. And then Walter, who was still at work. Then we’d pick up Zoe (by Walter’s request).

We passed my neighbors’ houses. Their lawns were neat and green. Ours hadn’t been mowed in weeks. I should probably do that soon, I thought to myself.

“You guys have everything?” Mags asked. I nodded. 

Reuben yawned. “What do I need? Besides sunglasses.”

“Uh, sunscreen? A book? A towel?” 

He snorted. “Why would I need a book at the beach?” I laughed and shook my head. He was an idiot sometimes. Most of the time, actually.

Amy’s house approached us in the window. It was bigger than mine, and the exterior paint looked crisp and clean. Little trees lined the front lawn, and tiny statues accompanied flower bushes. Her mom collected statues — gnomes, forest animals, you name it.

The girl in question was nowhere in sight. Probably sleeping. She was like that. Every time we went out together in the past, she was later than everyone else. I guess she ran on a different schedule than us.

After ten minutes, she finally ran out to us, almost tripping on a ceramic gnome. In her left hand she held a small backpack, and in her right was a pink water bottle. She hopped into the back with me. 

“Hey, ladies,” she announced, “I brought snacks!”

“Cool. Be a little quicker next time, lady,” Reuben said. He started the car again. He was only this snarky when people were late. It was a pet peeve of his.

Amy buckled her seatbelt and tossed her bag on the floor. “Is Walt coming?”

“Yeah. We’re getting him from work,” Mags answered, “And his girlfriend, too.” Her eyes were still glued to her phone. 

Amy nodded and leaned back in her seat. Pop music played quietly on the radio. Reuben bopped his head along to the beat. If I didn’t know him, I would’ve been surprised. He wasn’t the typical pop music customer. He was six foot four, with gelled blonde hair and an attitude to match. Definitely an odd addition to our friend group. Everyone who met us automatically assumed he was one of the girls’ boyfriends. But he wasn’t. He was as much of an artsy loser as the rest of us.