Seeming to Go Nowhere

A gas station... that's all it was to most people.
However, to my brother, his two best friends, and I, it was a sanctuary. It was an abode where we could get away from the other townspeople and think or do something. Or at least, that's what I thought of it...

It was around eighty-something degrees outside and the sun was shining in and out of the passing cirrus clouds. I was chewing on some gum and drawing Mason's figure lounging in the back of the pickup truck. I, being the adventurous of the two, was sitting on the top of the truck waiting for some passerby's car to trudge into the small town's only gas station. Brendon was working in the auto shop along with his buddies, Josh and Randy. I poked my faded ripped jeans with my .5 lead pencil as I contemplated my old German Shepherd's pose.

"You're such a lazy mutt, ya know that?" I muttered sweetly at his tired frame. He looked at me pathetically, knowing I was talking to him as usual, and whined at my insult.

"Mason, ya know I love ya," I chuckled as a gigantic bus pulled up and into the gas station. It was overheated; any fool could tell you that. The smell of a burning engine disagreed with my nose. It soon came to a halt with an awful screech that would put any bird to shame.

I didn't know that bus was my ticket out of this place. It was my only chance to make my life more interesting... more of an adventure. Thank the Lord for Benjamin Jorgensen and his friends.