Shotgun!

I charge past Lewis yelling “shotgun” at the top of my lungs and sprint to the prize seat. Lewis looks at me dumbfounded, looks at the front door hanging wide open and then looks back at me, rather unhappily. He pulls the door shut and walks as slow as he can down the path to the sidewalk.

I roll the window down and yell “Hurry up, I’m going to be late!” He gives me the finger but he does walk at a normal pace. He climbs in the back seat and sighs then mumbles under his breath about “his seat”.

To spite him I leave the seat pushed all the way back and stretch out with far more leg room than I could hope to use without some serious growth hormones. Eric glances at me barely contains his laughter.

He accelerates on to the road proper and at the first traffic light we have to stop at, he breaks the silence. "Lewis and I are still planning on heading out to the historic site, are you sure you don't want to come?"