Chapter 13

After Brighton High School is ousted from the playoffs, several team members follow the results each week, hoping someone will upset Midland Prep. The team gathers at Waffle House every Saturday afternoon and watches Midland Prep on their phones.

Luck would prevail for Boone High School, and the Crimson Knights destroy Midland Prep. Clarke sits with Tracy. Across from them, Dallas and Hector are on a date with the Bennett twins. Laura plays footsy with Dallas as Aurora giggles winking at Hector.

The smell of several steaks, eggs, and hashbrowns sails throughout the patched-together restaurant. Not flattered by the half-cooked meat stench, Tracy sits there waiting for her Belgium Waffle and bacon.

"I don't mean to come across as a bitch, but..." she stops and stares at the table, "Please eat quickly so we can leave. I hate this place and how it stinks. If you hurry, I promise I'll make it worth it."

Curious about what she's willing to give for a eat now, taste later meal, Clarke raises his eyebrows, "Do tell. I'm all ears to what you're willing to gimme."

Ready to share, Tracy takes out her phone, sending a photo of what she's wearing under her dark gray beaded tiger t-shirt and Jordache jeans, "Check your phone."

Fumbling to get his phone from his back pocket, Clarke rushes to open it. His jaw drops at the photos of Tracy standing in her full-body mirror, modeling in nothing but a green see-through bra accompanied by a bright red g-string.

"It's almost Christmas. Nothing should get us into the spirit more than Santa's favorite colors. So, hurry and come claim your gift, baby boy," she says and winks.

Shaking his feet on the floor, Clarke feels his manhood rising. The images burn their way into his mind. His breathing changes. Tracy smiles and realizes she has him in the palm of her hand, "To make it even hotter. I want you to make love to me on the football field," she whispers, then licks her lips.

Clarke shuts his eyes, envisioning what's about to happen between them. In slow motion, he pictures Tracy on top as her perky breasts bounce in unison. Since their first time in her bedroom, they've managed to sneak into having sex three more times and nearly got caught the last time in the locker room.

While Clarke's imagination runs wild, their food arrives, "Thank you very much," Tracy says, bringing Clarke out of the trance.

"You're welcome, darlin'. Y'all enjoy now, and best of luck next season, young man," the older female server with gray hair states before she ambles away.

Unwilling to waste time, Clarke takes the knife and fork and mutilates his food. Tracy tries to be ladylike but swiftly sees that Clarke isn't wasting time. She scoffs while dissecting the waffle and inhales the bacon. The orange juice in front of her is downed in seconds. The rest of the team and their guests see the couple seemingly having an eating contest. The guys cheer for Clarke, and the ladies scream and yell, supporting Tracy.

During the impromptu race, the couple stares at each other, wanting to win bragging rights. Even with Tracy having less food, she falls behind. Clarke continues to inhale each bite of medium-well-cooked steak and sunny-side-up eggs that break with yolk spreading over the plate. The staff gets in on the mischief, cheering on the couple while fist-pumping the air. Down to the final few bites, it comes down to the wire when Tracy stuffs her mouth. Clarke ditches the utensils, pick up the A1 sauce-soaked steak, and rips the last couple of bites off the fat.

"GO, CLARKE!" Hector screams in Spanish.

"C'MON, GIRL POWER! KICK HIS ASS!" Laura screams, standing on a chair.

The ruckus rattles throughout the restaurant. Clarke swallows the final bite for the win, sending the football team cheering with their arms raised.

"Hell yeah, son!" Moore, the backup quarterback, shouts.

Arms raised in victory, Clarke winks at Tracy, "No one beats Brighton!" he cries out as Tracy chuckles at his corniness.

Ready to run out the door, Clarke takes out his wallet, trying to buy time for his dick to soften more. Dropping a ten-dollar bill, he sits there, allowing the energy and attention to die. When he feels his penis soften enough to leave, Clarke scoots from the booth and takes Tracy's hand. They nearly fall on the slick black and white checkered floor.

"If I didn't know any better. I'd swear they hurried to get out of here to have sex," Dallas says

Hector laughs, "Clarke isn't that assertive. He's that good guy next door, so I'd doubt they've done anything beyond first base."

There's a pause as Dallas sits and thinks it over, "Yeah. You're probably right. Oh well, girls, let's finish and take this back to your basement. I feel a swollen storm brewing, and only some Aurora can tame it today."

Laura and Aurora giggle and whisper. Hector doesn't pay attention to it. He doesn't mind bouncing from either sister. He is unaware that he's playing sloppy seconds to Dallas sharing the twins when he's not in a threesome.

Unlike most days when Clarke and Tracy are together, they're out in the Cougar rather than the Solstice. Steve's worked on the car a bit to get it running better. The interior smells better after being shampooed and scrubbed enough to where Tracy's nose doesn't smell the dank musk anymore.

Once they arrive at the field, Clarke leaves Tracy in the car to make sure it's clear to trespass on the field. After seeing no janitorial staff on campus, Clarke escorts Tracy to midfield, where he stands there feeling his body react to its desire. Tracy sees how his body reacts and takes it upon herself to get the ball rolling.

Without saying anything, Tracy drops to her knees. She unties Clarke's shorts, tugging them down to his ankles, where Clarke steps out of them.

"I apologize now if I suck at this," Tracy says, licking her lips before opening her mouth and nearly gagging on Clarke's cock halfway down her throat.

Shuttering between breaths, Clarke grabs Tracy's hair, "Oh my fucking God. That feels amazing!" He mutters with his eyes closed.

Tracy slows her breathing to exhale when she pulls back and inhales each time she tries to take more of Clarke's dick in her mouth. She continues until her jaw begins to hurt and pulls away, "I'm sorry. I can't take anymore. You're bigger than I thought, but how was it?"

To show his appreciation, Clarke takes Tracy's hands. He pulls her up, then paws at her clothes until she's naked. Nervous, Tracy tries to cover her breasts, but Clarke places his hands on her shoulders and goes to the ground with her.

"My turn," he mentions, pulling her legs apart.

Before she can ask Clarke what he means, Tracy feels him place his mouth over her vagina with his tongue attacking her clit, "OH...FUCK..." she manages to muster as her hands dig into the turf, "Oh dear sweet Jesus, Clarke, don't stop!"

Panting harder when Clarke inserts a finger into her body, jerking it in and out rapidly, Tracy slaps her hands over her mouth to muffle her screams. Within a couple of minutes, her body responds with a massive orgasm, soaking Clarke's finger.

He pulls back, wiping his lips with his tongue, "How was that?"

"No talking, just fucking! Get the protection and make me scream!" Tracy demands, wanting more.

Not wasting time, Clarke does as he's commanded and wraps his dick with a condom. Shoved deep into Tracy's body, he doesn't go slow like the other few times they've had sex. Clarke pumps his hips like a man possessed, forcing Tracy to cover her mouth, feeling her body respond to the heavy barrage of her lover's lust. When her body wants more after Clarke begins to slow down, Tracy waits for her chance to shift her hips, rolling Clarke on his back, reinserting his tightly wrapped dick into her supercharged body.

"My turn to make rock your goddamn world!" Tracy says, refusing to waste time whipping her hips back and forth, impaled on all ten inches of Clarke's manliness. She continues to feel him swell within her body, pushing her euphoria further, "YES! FUCK YES! GODDAMN IT, YES!"

Feeling his ass pushed into the turf, Clarke's body experiences pain mixed with pleasure, "Jesus Christ! I'm almost there, don't fucking quit!" he lets out, shoving his hips out of the turf for relief but sending shockwaves through Tracy's body. After pushing his hips up, Clarke releases an abundance of seed into the condom, causing his body to go limp while his dick remains inside Tracy's womb.

Tracy begins to slow down, feeling Clarke's cock going soft. Her body experiences a euphoria she's not felt the other times they've made love. Drenched in sweat from having sex with the Texas sun beaming over them, Clarke and Tracy lie there catching their breath before getting dressed. The warmth from the sun helps push them along. Partially dehydrated, Clarke and Tracy make their way to the car and head off for 7/11, where they purchase a fountain drink each. They suffer through a couple instances of brain freeze but enjoy the chance the cool off and giggle about what they felt on the football field.

Finally able to feel every inch of their bodies after the final brain freeze, Clarke takes Tracy home, where they sit and chat until her father arrives, "Mr. Harbor, have a good evening. Tracy, get inside and work on your voice lessons, and study for finals. Y'all need some time apart."

"Yes, sir. Tracy, I will see you at school," Tracy says, then stops to meet Brent eye-to-eye, "Mr. Wilcox, sir, if it's okay with you, I'd like to take Tracy to the Waco Christmas light show."

Impressed that Clarke's asking for permission, Brent stands there with his briefcase in hand, "I'll make you a deal. You have others go with y'all, and you'll have my permission. No offense, kids. You're teenagers, and being alone at night that far away ain't okay with me."

"Done!" Clarke says, beating Brent to the punch, "Quite a few of us are going, and I'd like to be Tracy's date for that night."

Snickering, Brent finds the remark adorable, "Now look, I knew your daddy. You know we went way back. I'm fine with it being a group thing, but absolutely no hanky-panky! You'll drive her car or ride in a car big enough for everyone. Plus, Gracie and I know y'all are courtin', so don't play coy with me, boy. You got my permission. I won't say it again, though. Good night Mr. Harbor."

Tilting his head, Clarke backs away. Once he's out of sight, Tracy walks over, playfully slapping her father on the arm, "Daddy! That was embarrassing! Clarke is such a good guy, and not trusting us to go look at Christmas lights says a lot," Tracy begins to stomp away, "You are such an old fuddy-duddy! ARGH!"

Gracie Lynn exits from the upstairs bedroom to see Tracy walking by.

"Honey, is everything okay?"

Huffing, Tracy stops and stomps, "No! Daddy is a total jerk. He doesn't trust me to be alone in Waco at night with Clarke to see the lights. So, if I want to go with him, there must be a lot of us going. I don't like not being trusted," she declares with her arms crossed and pouting lips.

Unable to hold back the laughs, Gracie Lynn bends over enough that her hands rest against her knees, "I can agree that your father is a jerk, but I must agree that we can't allow you to be alone with your boyfriend late at night on the road like that."

Barely able to mutter a high-pitched squeak, Tracy walks to her bedroom, dragging her feet the entire way to the door. She shuts, locking the door; Tracy flops on the bed, diving down a TikTok rabbit hole until she falls asleep.

Hector's conscience begins to claw at his soul the next day at work. When he doesn't have customers in the store, Hector works on a hand-written letter explaining why he's leaving and how difficult it's been trying to inform his best friend about leaving Brighton. Hector jots down side notes to place in the letter. From the day they met in elementary school to having Hector and his sisters' back when racists would yell derogatory remarks at them.

The door chimes when a tall, slender Latino tattoo artist walks in, wanting to prepay for fuel.

"Hello, sir. What can I do for you?" Hector asks in Spanish.

"I need forty-five dollars on pump three, please."

Noticing a custom Superman tattoo on the artist's right arm, Hector becomes curious, "Awesome art, my brother! Did you do that yourself?"

"Yes. I designed it and created a stencil. Then I had my apprentice do it as his final piece before getting his license. Do you got any ink?"

Shaking his head no, Hector tightens his lips, glaring down, "Nah. I'm not eighteen yet, but I really like that design."

What the tattoo artist says next blows Hector away, "You don't need to be eighteen. At seventeen, you no longer need a parent's permission. I'm located in the Brighton Downtown Plaza. Come in; I'll hook you up!"

"Seriously? Ah, hell yeah. I'll bring my best friend to get matching tats. He doesn't know I'm leaving soon. I'm joining my sisters at my aunt and uncle's ranch in Montana."

Quickly able to put the unspoken phrase together, the tattoo artist nods, "I'm Diego González. It'll be on me, my friend. I'll add something to honor your parents for making sure you're on this side of the border."

"Gracias mi amigo," Hector says, dipping his head.

Diego walks back to a dark silver 2002 Mercedes-Benz C230. After pumping and driving off, Hector feels hopeful that Clarke will go to get matching tattoos. It dawns on him that the deep, dark secret of moving away must rise to the surface, causing him to sweat in the cool air-conditioned store. Hector goes about his shift, thinking about when to break the news to everyone.

Not long after he clocks out, Hector heads to Amigos, Tacos, and Nachos, where he finds Dallas sitting at one of the umbrella-covered tables on the outside patio.

"Yo, Dally!" Hector calls out.

Stunned to see Hector alone, Dallas raises a hand calling back, "Sup little pimp? Go inside to let the hostess know you're with me."

In less than two minutes, Hector walks from inside out to the table. Settled in the metal seat, Hector doesn't bother looking over the menu when a tan female Cuban with short curly dark hair walks from the bar area.

"Hello. What can I get for you?" The server asks.

Looking up to instantly melt over her beauty, Hector nearly forgets what he wants, "Yeah, um, lemonade with an order of fish tacos. Yeah, definitely want the fish tacos."

The young lady finds his appeal cute. She blushes before acknowledging the order.

"One fish taco platter and lemonade coming up. Thanks, cutie," she picks up the menu and walks away.

Impressed, Dallas nudges Hector with an elbow to the side, "Damn, man, you could totally take her home for some naughty hotty time."

Unprepared for the comment, Hector tries not to laugh but gets choked up, turning red, holding in the want to chuckle, "What about Aurora and Laura? I don't want to piss either of them off."

Rattling his fingers on top of the table, Dallas breaks the news, "Yeah. About that and them. I, um, I've had a threesome or two with them. I hate to tell you that. Besides, Novia would be a much better woman for you. I mean, she graduates this year, but why not have some fun in the meantime?"

Something doesn't feel right to Hector. He begins to dig in about how Dallas knows so much and has not been in Brighton all that long.

"You know a lot about the Bennett twins and Novia. Please tell me you didn't sleep with her too."

Dallas pounds a fist against the table, laughing, "No! After moving here, this was the first place I ate at, and I love the décor and food. Novia is a good friend. She's going to Baylor next year. I'll have someone I can hang out with and not sleep with. She's an incredible and brilliant woman. Take a chance; ask her out."

All the guilt comes bubbling up again. This time Hector gives an indication with slouched shoulders, dulled eyes, with a low groan he isn't aware of.

"What ain't you saying?" Dallas pokes at him with a low tone in his voice.

Hector covers his face with his hands, muffling his voice, "That's pointless because I'm leaving town."

Dallas's eyes' wild and bewildered glare says it all, "Repeat that."

With a drawn-out breath, Hector drops his hands to his lap, "If my parents get caught border jumping one more time, they don't go back to Mexico. They will go to a federal detention center and be charged. They've been caught twice, and with the new caught three times and you're out rule from President Douche Canoe, you're sent to a federal labor camp for up to twenty years. So, while they wait to apply for a green card in the next few years, I'm going to join my sisters at my uncle's ranch in Montana."

"Fucking backward ass politicians! They take, lie, cheat, and steal until it suits their needs." Something doesn't add up for Dallas. He doesn't hold back, "Wait! If your parents were thrown back to Mexico, why isn't your aunt or uncle thrown back too?"

"That's easy to explain," Hector begins, "My uncle married the daughter of the rancher that owns the family business. They loved my uncle being one of the best my aunt's father beat the government to the punch and also had my uncle enlist in the National Guard to become a citizen. It's been a Godsend because I was worried my sisters would get into trouble or locked up in juvie."

The pieces fit together for Dallas right before Novia returns with the lemonade.

"Here you are. Your food should be up in a few moments. I'll check on them."

Walking away, Hector can't help but stare at Novia's firm, round ass in a pair of super-tight skinny jeans. Dallas faintly overhears a low groan from Hector, "Yeah, buddy! She's a looker, but hey, don't mention leaving town and tag that ass!"

Guilt flows courses through Hector's veins, "I'm not you. I was raised to be respectful to women. I've felt horrible doing the hump and dump to Aurora or Laura."

"They don't fuckin' care! The last thing those two want is to be serious with anyone during their senior year. Me and them have a seriously fucked up arrangement. Don't sweat it, big dawg, because it's said and done," Dallas stops when Hector's food arrives, being placed on the table, "Anyway, Novia is beautiful, funny, and easy-going. If ya can't bring yourself to pull the trigger, then be friends. No one ever gets hurt being friends."

"If you say so, homie. Anyway, enough chitchat, let's kick it for a minute," Hector says, nearly inhaling his food.

As their time together drags on and the blazing sun shifts in the sky, Hector and Dallas continue to grow close. When they're ready to pay and leave, Hector gives Novia cash, but when she returns with the change, "Here ya go, fellas. I hope everything was satisfactory."

Dallas surprises them, "It was one of the best ones I've had. Plus, the eye candy for my boy here was well worth the price of it all."

Taking her order pad, Novia scribbles for a second, then places a ripped ticket down on the table, "Then have your friend call me. Take care, boys."

Unable to believe what's happening, Hector smiles and places the phone number in his pocket, "What time do you get off work?"

"I'm early out tonight. Meet me out front at nine sharp," Novia informs with a smile.

She struts away, shaking her ass a little more to tease Hector. He gets to his feet and follows Dallas through the dining room area until they're standing between their vehicles. Hector extends a fist, and Dallas doesn't waste time bumping back, "Dally, thanks, man, I can't repay you enough."

"No thanks needed big dawg. You've been a great guy to meet and teammate. Since I got here, you and Clarke have shown me nothing but unbelievable respect. I'm grateful to be proven wrong when I thought there weren't any decent people left in the world. Most Mexicans hate it when my people come off the reservation because we get compared to them. White people have been worse by some of the trash they've called my people and me."

Listening to the pain in his voice, Hector extends his hand again. This time it's an open palm, "We don't hate here. Clarke has had my back from the day we met in school. I was reserved about white people too, but him and his family have always been kind. His mom tried to work some channels to get my parents a work visa if they worked in her pharmacy. They're good people."

"Indeed. But I'm out. Catch ya later. Take 'er easy," Dallas says, shaking Hector's hand, then gets into his Durango, pulling away.

Rather than text or call Clarke, Hector gets into the station wagon, rolls down the window, and drives over to Clarke's. He parks along the edge of the driveway and gets out to join Steve, going over some issues plaguing the Cougar.

"Hola mi amigos!"

"What's up, my brother from another mother?"

Knowing it's useless to discuss issues with the car while Clarke's distracted, Steve swaps out a socket to continue repairing a loose pulley. Hector motions Clarke to his car. Sitting on the edge of the hood, Clarke waits for Hector to begin talking.

"Can you get free for a while tomorrow? While I was at work, a tattoo guy came in and said he'd hook us up with matching tats. I want it to be my Christmas gift to you. Make our pact as brothers official."

Shocked for a split second, Clarke nods that he's on board with the idea.

"Sweet! I know it's out of left field, but I have my reasons, I promise."

A confused expression evolves on Clarke's face. He tightens and puckers his lips while he collects a thought to put to words, "Um...Okay... Something's off; what's about to go down?"

Hands together, resting against closed eyes, Hector begins to breathe a little faster. Steve notices a wave of tension pulse up the driveway. He keeps an eye on the two best friends, with an invisible wall now building between them.

Unable to keep pressing his hands against his face, Hector drops his hands, opening his eyes with a dull glare, "This isn't going to be easy to say," Hector's body tenses up enough that his muscles slightly ache, "After Christmas, I'm leaving. I'm moving to my family's ranch in Montana. I've had this planned for a hot minute. I've wanted to tell you so many times."

In a deep breath, Clarke crosses his arms, "Okay. What do you need from me other than support? Any help packing or gas money or anything? You're my best friend. Is it going to suck not having my best friend here for our senior year? Fuck yes, it is, but am I going to be pissed that you're doing what's best for you? Not at all."

Clarke struggles to keep his lip from quivering, but the tears building in the corner of his eyes says it all. Hector's eyes start to swell, feeling the emotional sting jab him in the heart.

"It's not that I want to go. Things are just too tough on my own. My parents can't get back here, maybe ever, but losing your respect is on the same level as missing my parents."

With his hands waving back and forth, Clarke clarifies how he feels, "Nah. I get it, and I don't blame you. I always miss my dad and wish he was here with us. Plus, if I was away from my sisters, I'd go crazy not being there to protect them. Go, man, and be free from Brighton. You have my support. I will be without the best damn quarterback the state of Texas has ever seen. So, yeah, let's do the tattoo thing. Just nothing stupid or gay."

Elated that Clarke isn't about to turn his back, Hector hugs his best friend as he explains the design, "It's a custom Superman logo. Maybe we could do our initials or something rather than the 'S' symbol."

Sticking his tongue over his upper lip, Clarke swiftly comes up with an alternative idea, "What if we do a half ying-yang. I get the black side with the white circle, and you get the white half with the black circle."

"Dude! Yes! A way to remember that split, we're still the best amigos no matter what."

With a fist bump, Clarke motions Hector to follow back to the Cougar, where they explain what's going on to Steve while they learn about the car and how engines work. Once the work is complete and Steve places the tools in the garage, Hector heads home while Clarke heads inside to study for the first round of finals.

Each day at school feels endless. Finals drag on, but that Friday, Hector walks to his counselor's office to pick up his files to take to Montana.

"I hate seeing students leave. Although it could be worse if you had decided to drop out," the counselor in her mid-30s flips her long red hair over her shoulder.

Hector, placing his hand on the oversized vanilla envelope, sighs, "Ms. Lopez, that would be expected. I want to achieve my goal. I don't know where I'm going to college yet, but I will become a veterinarian."

Ms. Lopez nods, silently hoping he can fulfill that dream, "If that's your dream, then I hope you grab it with both hands and become one of the best veterinarians everywhere you go."

"Thank you. That means a lot to me," Hector says, then shakes her hand.

Exiting the office, Hector walks out of Brighton High School for the last time. He's shocked to see his friends standing in the parking lot around his car. Tightening his grip on the envelope, Hector marches to the station wagon, where he tosses the file into the passenger's seat.

"C'mon, let's get it over with already!" He calls out with his back turned to everyone.

Tracy steps up first. She wraps her long skinny arms around Hector, sniffling as she shuts her eyes, "You can't go. Not yet! Stay until we go see the lights in Waco. Please?"

A gentle squeeze doesn't say much, with his hands resting over hers. The scent of Tracy's cotton candy perfume travels up his nose, creating an instant memory.

"Si. My uncle won't be here until the twenty-third anyway. I promise that gives us a week to go wild and see them."

Finally managing to let go, Tracy steps back, giving Dallas and the Bennett twins in the sunlit spotlight, "Tonight we're going to party like it was 1999 when our parents were young!" Dallas says as everyone cracks up at the enthusiasm.

"I can get down with a party. It's time to get busy!" Hector expresses, shaking his hips.

Aurora steps in front of her sister and Dallas, dancing with Hector. Her pale skin glows in the sunlight, but no one expected Clarke to turn on Pandora to a station playing club music.

"When in Rome, right!" He says, setting his phone on the hood of his car.

Ms. Lopez walks out the double doors and stands, watching the students have fun. She's been worried about the impact of Hector leaving a tight-knit support system, "So, this is how they're saying goodbye. Different but constructive in a positive manner. I like it," She says, then walks to the faculty parking lot.

As the song ends, no one slows down for the next one to begin. Everyone dances for nearly a half hour until the heat gets to them. Swiftly feeling the energy die off, Hector takes control, "Everyone, follow me to work! Slushies are on me!"

The only person not cheering is Clarke. With a dumbfounded expression, he spoils the fun, "Dude. You work there, so they're free."

Immediately laughter erupts; Hector stands with his arms wide open and jaw open, "Still..."

"Oh, kiss and make up later. I need a blue raspberry slushy!" Laura says.

It doesn't take everyone long to get settled into a vehicle. Hector leads the way, enjoying the ice-cold air-conditioning along the way. Behind him is Clarke. His windows are rolled down with no music since he can hear Hector blaring Adelitas Way. Nearly riding his bumper, Tracy leaves the top up on her car to escape the blazing December heatwave. Dallas is the last car in line, with Laura and Aurora sitting in the backseat and listening to classic 1970s rock music.

Parked close to the doors, everyone unloads and walks inside the convenience store, forming a line at the slushy machine. Hector goes first; he walks behind the counter to check the schedule. His coworker Stu, an average-height stoner high school dropout, is on duty.

"Hey, man. I heard you're like moving to a Dakota or somewhere like that. That's rad, man! I'm still saving to move to Colorado. Weed is like totally legal there, bruh," the shaggy-haired Caucasian male states, swiping his hair behind his ear.

Hector barely pays attention, but when he places the clipboard with the schedule back under the register area, he replies, "Montana. That's where I'm going. Oh, you didn't see my friends here either. They're getting slushies on me."

Stu waves it off, not caring about the minimum wage job, "Yeah, cool, man. Hell, you know I don't give a shit about this place. Once I get my GED and the cash together, I'm like totally gone. I hear the now boarding scene in snow country is bitch'."

"Awesome. I wish ya the best, amigo. Gotta fly and keep aiming for Colorado. You'll get there, and it's been a pleasure working with ya. That thing we call a manager has me off the schedule, which means I'm out."

"That blows, bruh. It's been real. Bring it for a bro hug!" Stu states, taking Hector's hand and pulling him in tight for a quick exchange, "Oh. If you ever come back and I'm here, kill me."

Hector gets a chuckle at the joke. He picks up his extra large slush and exits with everyone waiting on him in the parking lot, "So, what's up now bitches? Anyone down to do a little fishin' at the lake?"

"Um, you know I'm out," Tracy declares with a hand up.

"Hey, I'm down," Clarke states, winking at Tracy to give her some space.

The Bennett twins shake their heads no, "I'll join you guys after I drop them off. It might be a minute, so if ya don't stay long, text me," Dallas tells Hector and Clarke.

With a thumbs up, they stand there as the Durango is the first vehicle gone. Tracy gives Clarke a kiss, and they get taunted by Hector, "Get a room!"

"Maybe we will," Tracy replies with a seductive stare in her eyes.

"Oh a-la! Watch out for this minx."

Clarke can't help but laugh but manages to let Tracy go, "I'll hit you up later. I love you."

"I love you too. Go have fun with your best friend while you can."

Without missing a beat, Tracy struts away, leaving Hector and Clarke. Once they get in their cars, the boys head to Cowboy Lake, where Dallas joins them just before sunset. They sit, chat, and enjoy the tranquility knowing time is against them until Hector leaves.