Step Brothers

Road Trip - Chapter Three

[Do you guys think we can get to 1,000 votes? Let's do it, for me! For Derek and Leo? For Nicole's STD results?]

(Leo's point of view)

"Leo, will you please stop twerking on your seat while I'm driving?" Derek complained.

There was nothing better in this life than shaking my ass to country pop music. Especially on a moving vehicle. I held on to dear life while I bounced my ass, hoping cars driving by saw it and honked.

Unfortunately, there were no cars because we were in the middle of nowhere. Like, there was nothing around except mountains or canyons, I honestly couldn't tell the difference. They were big gross hot rocks in the middle of Satan's ass crack.

Gasp. That meant we were in his booty hole.

"I will NOT stop the twerking, and my name is Leonardo DiTwerker."

"You're making me nervous."

"If I'm not making you nervous then what am I good for?"

"You're acting like a child," And then he said the one thing that pissed me off the most, "Grow up."

"I'm not acting like a child," I protested, sitting back down. "So kindly fuck off."

He knew telling me to grow up was going to set me off. He said it because he knew it would get to me. He said it because he didn't care. Telling me to grow up or calling me a child didn't make me just angry, it would make my body turn hot, turn my emotions on edge, make me form fists at my side hoping nothing was close to me because the frustration I felt was insufferable.

For as long as I lived, I felt like I was always true to myself. Whether people liked me because of it or not was not a priority of mine. I did not care what people think, I was always me. Even if I was being a mess or embarrassing myself, did I care? Ever? No, I did not. So the fact that the so-called "Love of my life" would make me feel ashamed because I wanted to just be my careless self really did make me question a bunch of shit.

"Just because you're unhappy with your life doesn't mean you have to bring me down with it," I said quietly.

I noticed he started scratching the driving wheel. He would do this when he had a lot more to say on his mind, or when he felt too nervous. Guessed he was too nervous to say what he wanted to say. I had a pretty good idea what he wanted to say, there was only one defense that he could use against me.

"Can we just . . . not fight?" he said instead.

"Why? Don't want to make a scene?"

"What scene? We aren't even there yet."

"I can see the stupid diner."

"Can we please just not?"

"You started it."

"Okay, and now I'm ending it, so please?"

He better know how to read silence because that was my answer as I looked at the diner in the distance and ignored his existence. There were four cars parked outside the diner from what I saw, and none of them looked familiar. Did we just get stood up? Pretty sure she hadn't changed cars.

We parked next to the entrance of the little restaurant in the middle of nowhere, but not completely, the next town was a few miles away and I could see it from where we were. We got out of the car and looked around, there was no sign of her.