Chapter 3

The cars rumbled and roared to life about a minute before Will made his way back, arms piled high with a mess of congealed grease in paper boats and boxes of old candy. Standard fare, basically. Chris hated the food here, but Will swore there was nothing better than track food. Ick.

“You leave any of that grossness left for anyone else to buy?”

“Ha ha. You’re funny.” Plopping down to Chris’ left, Will carefully unloaded the array of food onto the empty bench space in front of them. “I only got some snacks. It’s not that much.”

Chris side-eyed the hell out of him. “Let’s see.” One by one, he jabbed a finger at each part of the mess. “Nachos, onion rings, a side thingy of jalapenos, hot dog with sauerkraut, two bags of M&Ms that’ll melt way before you can eat them, a root beer and…” Chris waited.

Sighing like he was a put-upon Samaritan, Will opened his large hand, revealing a bag of sour gummies. “Didn’t want you to have to miss the race later so you could get them.”