Page 16

SIXTEEN

TRENT

Kit leaned over the steering wheel, eyes narrowed to slits as she peered up into the canopy of pine, the faded sign overheard barely legible. “I don’t think this is right.”

The sun dipped behind the trees, and we were dangerously close to missing the check-in if we didn’t head toward the motel soon.

“I swear, Kit, this is the place.”

The car crawled forward on the dirt road as my eyes scanned the shoulders of the road. Then, I spotted it.

“On the right, Stegosaurus!” I shouted. She stopped the car, her gaze following my pointed finger. “And there’s the sign.”

A generic letter board sign sat underneath the stegosaurus’s back leg, the backlight barely visible and the letters askew.

“The Land Time Forgot.”

Kit’s jaw dropped, a gleeful peal of laughter slipping out that lit up her face as she inched the car forward. “How is this a thing?”

The town looked abandoned. Hell, it was abandoned. Populated instead by giant fiberglass dinosaurs.

“A paper mill closed, the town emptied out, and someone plunked down dozens of dinosaurs.”

The write-ups on the town had been surprisingly scarce, limited to a handful of local news articles and a handful of blogs. But nothing about the person responsible.

“So they could…” she prompted as she parked the car in front of city hall. Above us, four pterodactyls swarmed the clock tower.

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. No one advertised it, and no one’s taken credit for it. It’s just…here.”

I stepped outside, searching the main street for another team, but the street was empty. As we traveled away from the coast, the night air turned cool, and I opened the trunk, grabbing Kit’s hoodie. I threw it at her as she exited the car. “We don’t have a lot of time to sightsee.”

She sighed, a faint pull of regret crossing her face. “Ten minutes?”

“Twenty if you drive fast.”

She brushed her hand over the body of the Triceratops as she ambled down the street, her eyes floating up at the buildings with a dreamy haze. Reflexively, I checked my watch and then pushed my sleeve over the clock face, trying to match her unhurried stride even as the minutes ticked down to the 10:00 pm check in.

“How do you even decide to do something like this?” she asked.

“I imagine the same way someone decides to repair their dad’s old car and drive it halfway across the country in a rally.”

She turned back, grinning. “Or join a rec league kickball team.”

I raked a hand through my hair. “I think those first two examples took a lot more time and effort than filling out a form.”

“The car didn’t take that long. I mean, how do you even make a full-scale dinosaur?” She tapped the back of an ankylosaurus on the sidewalk with a mailbag hung on its spiky tail.

I slid my phone out of my pocket and took a picture of Kit. The dim glow of the streetlights illuminated her face. Her flyaways and mussed hair from a day careening through the southeast looked almost windswept. I stared at the picture, marking something different about it but unable to place exactly what.

Exhaustion, probably.

I kept it for myself rather than post it on our rapidly-growing rally account.

“Alright, let's find a photo op and get out of here before we miss check-in,” I said, shaking off a heavy feeling in my chest.

Kit paused in front of the movie theater, tilting her head at the T-Rex in the ticket booth, a jaunty-striped pillbox hat balanced on its head.

“They even made money!” She tapped on the window, gesturing to the open register in front of the dinosaur and the stacks of bleached colored bills with a velociraptor in a powdered white wig in the center. “There’s got to be an amazing place to take a photo around here.”

She whirled around, eyes narrowing before lighting up. “Oh! There!”

I followed her extended finger to the green space between the post office and diner, where a dilapidated gazebo held three white spheres. She took off at a jog and I followed.

“Ah,” I said. “Eggs.”

“They’re so cute!” Kit squealed over the tiny stegosaurus emerging from the egg on the left. On the right, a baby pterodactyl clung to the shell. The center egg sat empty but cracked open.

Kit wriggled her way inside the center egg, her head popping out of the top. “It’s the perfect picture.”

I snapped a half-dozen pictures as Kit cos-played a baby dinosaur before she wormed her way back out and grabbed my phone. “Your turn.”

I eyed the egg.

Sure, it was big enough for Kit to fit inside, but probably not me. And while I didn’t mind a few somewhat humiliating pictures, baby dinosaur Trent was a little much. I shook my head.

“Come on, Texas.” Her voice drawled out the nickname before she jutted out her bottom lip. The combination coaxed me into at least attempting to fit inside the egg.

I groaned. “Fine. One picture.”

The egg was clearly built for a smaller person with narrower shoulders. I wriggled my legs inside, but my torso caught on the jagged edge of the shell. Kit snapped a few pictures, giggling all the while.

“You don’t look like you’re hatching so much as escaping.” She laughed as she took another picture. “I think we should post one of these.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I promise your fan girls are gonna love these pictures. Adore them.”

“Nope.” I braced myself against the egg, leaning forward. As I pushed up, the waistband of my sweats yanked down, caught somewhere inside the egg. “Shit. I think I’m stuck.”

Kit’s eyes grew wide and mischievous. “You’re stuck? In the egg?”

“Something’s snagged my pants.” I plunged my hands inside the shell, running my fingertips along anywhere I could reach, which admittedly wasn’t much. My second attempt at standing was even less successful than my first, and my pants bunched around my knees. I sat back down. “Can you give me a hand?”

She bit her bottom lip, eyes darting between the phone and me.

“Don’t even think about it,” I warned. “You can’t post those pictures.”

She took a half-step forward and peered into the egg. “You’re really stuck?”

“Why would I make that up?”

She leaned away, eyes shifting to the phone. “Just one second, and I’ll help.”

“You can’t be serious,” I said as her fingers flew across the screen. “You don’t even know the right hashtags.”

“You can add them later.”

I swiped at her with my hand, catching her knee and pulling her toward me. Her mouth formed an O of surprise as she lifted the phone over her head before dancing out of my grip with a laugh.

“Nice try, Texas, but looks like I’m quicker than you,” she teased, stepping back far enough that I couldn’t try again.

“You’re not quicker than me,” I grumbled.

“I am speed.” She shot me a toothy smile before turning her attention back to the phone.

I couldn’t let that stand. I unlaced the sweats and sprinted out of the egg. Clocking the movement just a second before I engulfed her, Kit’s eyes grew big, and she turned, dashing across the green.

Kit wasn’t speed, but she was surprisingly agile. Her legs pumped as she darted side to side, making it a solid ten yards before I caught her. My arms encircled her waist, scooping her up before slipping the phone out of her hand.

“Trent Vogt, you asshole.” She lunged for the phone, but I tossed it into the grass. Her face corkscrewed into a frown, eyes narrowing on mine.

“I thought you were speed,” I laughed.

“I am speed, compared to the average person. You’re freakish.” She swatted her palm against my chest. “Besides, after that Bat Man picture, you owe me one.”

“That Bat Man picture is a great picture.” And I wasn’t lying. Sure, Kit looked a little pissed, but I knew that look. That exasperated look teetering on the edge of a laugh. It was one of my favorite pictures from the trip. Well, second favorite after the one I took tonight. “I love that picture.”

A flicker of confusion crossed Kit’s face. The balmy evening air turned sticky as I inhaled the familiar scent of cherries, dipping my head closer. Her forehead brushed mine, our breath co-mingling as my heart beat faster.

“You should put me down,” she whispered, eyes darting around as if someone else would stumble on us, this late, in an abandoned town.

I set her down before scanning the ground for my phone.

“Where are your pants?” Kit’s voice turned accusatory.

“Well, my partner wouldn’t help me out of that egg, so I had to ditch them.”

Bright red stained her cheeks as her eyes dipped to my boxer briefs and back up again. “Jesus, Texas, could you just be normal? Get your pants back on.”

I grinned. “Whatever you say, Kitten.”

I took my time on the stroll back to the egg, freeing my pant leg from the edge of the egg. Kit huffed behind me as I pulled on one leg, then the other, wondering whether she enjoyed the show.

A rustle of movement behind me and I paused my reverse strip show, thumbs hooked around my waistband, waiting.

For what? As the seconds ticked by, self-doubt creeped in. What exactly did I think would happen? That Kit would wrap her arms around me? Run her fingers down my back? Slip into my arms for a kiss?

This wasn't a date. Hell, this wasn't even technically a friendship.

I shook my head, feeling ridiculous as I pulled my pants up just as Kit slipped past me, stumbling back into the egg.

"What are you doing?" I asked, tying up the sweats.

She shimmied her shoulders inside the shell and then her head.

I patted my pockets. Empty. Turned in the direction I'd thrown my phone. The dewy grass was bare. "What are you doing, Kit?"

"Nothing." Her muffled voice innocently called through the fiberglass egg, a faint glow around her.

"You don't even know my password."

Her shoulders rocked with a huff. “After two days in the car, you think I don't know your 'password' is a square? It's not exactly high-level security.”

"You're not posting that picture," I warned.

Her head popped out of the egg, her lips pursed together. "Did you see the Bat Man picture? Did you read the comments?"

I winced. I had and hoped she hadn't.

"Trent Vogt is coming out of his shell today, and you can't stop me." She ducked back inside.

She'd sealed her back against half the crack and angled the phone toward the heavily shielded, pointy end of the shell. I fished a hand inside, my fingertips hitting only flesh and fabric.

"Hey, hands to yourself, buddy." She squirmed inside the shell until I pulled my hands back.

I waited for her to emerge.

She finally did, phone in hand. "Do you really not want me to post this?"

I shrugged. “I sort of deserve it.”

She handed over my phone with the caption filled out and a picture of me emerging from a shell plastered on top.

I pressed the post button and took one last look at the land time forgot. “Come on, Kitten. We gotta turn in for the night.”