Chapter Eleven

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a/n: okay so turns out I’ve been doing dialogue wrong. Like I’ve been doing  “hey.” He said…. Instead of “hey,” he said….  so from now on I’ll do it right :]

 Tyler’s pov

 “I’m gonna kill you,” I said for possibly the millionth time. My feet ached with every step I took and I was in agony. It felt like sharp needles were being shoved into my feet each time I brought them back to the ground. Okay so that might’ve been a slight exaggeration, but my feet were as close to falling off as they ever had been.

“If you meant that, then you would have done it already,” Troye responded, dragging his feet along side me. He looked almost as tired as I felt, and it was probably really rude of me to continue complaining when he seemed just as exhausted as I was. And I probably would have stopped complaining if I didn’t know that it was all his fault that I was doing exercise anyway.

 “I didn’t mean now, I meant when I’m less tired,” I said, barely even concentrating on the conversation. The only thing on my mine was the gas station. The sooner we got there the sooner I could get a water bottle and my promised ice cream. Knowing that we would have to walk all the way back after getting the gas made me want to throw up, so I hoped that I wouldn’t lose my ice cream that way.

Troye just made a sort of humming noise in response, too tired to make his mouth move and form words. We were both panting audibly from our mouths, which was pretty embarrassing, as we’d been walking the whole way. At the start of the walk I had greatly appreciated each cool breeze that had drifted my way, but now they seemed few and far in between, each one less cold than the last.

The gas station was now viewable, and I held back a groan at the thought of walking another step after we got there. I was about to complain to Troye about this before I spotted a familiar car and person at the gas station. The man in all black attire started to pump gas into his car. A grand scheme formed in my mind, and I acted on it immediately.

“Sivan,” I started, “how’s about I make a deal with you?” Troye rolled his eyes at the way I’d addressed him, but seemed interested enough.

“Continue,” he said, waving his hand so I’d go on.

“Well, I don’t think either of us are going to want to walk back to the car after experiencing this torture,” I explained, waiting for his response.

“That’s very true…” He said, although he sounded slightly wary.

“I say that whoever finds us a ride back first winds. And the loser has to pay for the dinner, the ice cream, and a ticket to Busch Gardens,” I said, and saw Troye’s eyes glint at the challenge. Both of us were obsessed with amusement parks, and I knew that he wouldn’t be able to resist.

“Deal.” He said, and immediately whipped out his phone to start texting people. I, on the other hand, gathered my last remaining strength and sprinted towards the gas station, breath rattling down my throat and legs aching and protesting against the exercise. I skidded to a stop as I reached the Dan, panting heavily and unable to speak a word. He looked surprised to see me, and I supposed I could be surprised to see him also. After all, why were we both not in school on a Monday?

“Dan,” I breathed, glancing behind me to see Troye jogging towards me. Knowing that I had to act now if I wanted that amusement park ticket, I sucked in a big breath of air.

“We ran out of gas, can you drop us back off at Troye’s car?” I asked, and Dan’s eyes widened, flickering towards his car and back.

“Uh,“ He started, before Troye tripped into me.

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