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Show The trail we followed was well worn and seemed to be commonly used. I could smell the aspen trees as well as the beef jerky that Cody was chewing as we walked. Like the Jazz shirt, I wasn't sure if the jerky was legal. Partially to stop him from chewing so loudly, and even though I already had a friend, I thought I would try my mom's advice and try talking to Cody. I learned right away that his main interest was professional wrestling. I wasn't sure if wrestling, like cars and football, was something I had to act like I cared about, but I pretended to know what I was talking about for a while. Four minutes ago stoic and unreadable, Cody became emotional when he considered what it would mean if Ray Mysterio Jr. lost and had to take off his mask so I let that conversation fade into the trees and went back to walking silently. At the first camp site, we pulled the tents out of the handcart-one for the boys, one for the girls-and set them. Brother and Sister Evans drove up their minivan loaded with coolers of Sprite and caffeine-free Coke as well as materials for hoagies. This made me wonder for a second why we were hauling around Dutch ovens, but I was just glad that we didn't have to use them. The sun was falling and the air was turning violet and cool. In the morning I heard the sound of girls rubbing lotion on their hands outside the tent. In Apostle Petersen's guide to quitting masturbation, he writes: "If the temptation seems overpowering while you are in bed, GET OUT OF BED AND |