Brody was excited about exactly one thing concerning the annual Junior Lifeguard Leadership Conference:

It was in San Diego. Which meant… road trip.

He’d been bragging about it all week. “Open road, good music, zero responsibilities—this is destiny,” he had declared to the entire tower.

He didn’t find out until the morning of the trip that he’d be sharing the car with you.

When the captain handed him the keys and said, “You’re driving both of you down there,” Brody blinked.

“Oh. Cool. Yep. Totally fine. I definitely drive people around all the time. I’m extremely calm about this.”

He was absolutely not calm.

The first twenty minutes were fine. Normal. Quiet. Scenic.

Then the music started.

Brody proudly hit “play,” expecting to impress you with his “Top Tier Lifeguard Vibes” playlist.

Except the first song was… A dramatic movie soundtrack. Very dramatic. Too dramatic.

You raised an eyebrow. Brody scrambled for the phone. “I swear this is not my usual vibe—this is my ‘running in slow motion on the beach’ playlist for training!”

You laughed. Brody turned red, then turned it off completely. Silence again.

Five minutes later, you turned on your own playlist. Brody froze like he was afraid to react too much.

Then he nodded. “Okay… this one’s actually good.”

Which, coming from him, was high praise.

Halfway to San Diego, you stopped for snacks. Brody returned to the car with a ridiculous amount of food—chips, candy, energy drinks, and something questionable he claimed was “protein.”

“Do you normally eat like this?” you asked.

Brody shrugged. “Road trip rules. Calories don’t count when you’re on the highway.”

Twenty minutes later he regretted everything. His energy drink buzz hit him hard. He talked nonstop.

“All I’m saying is if seagulls had jobs they’d totally unionize—wait, did you see that guy’s hat? Should we get hats? We could start a hat trend. Team Hats. No? Maybe not—”

“Brody,” you said gently, “take a breath.”

He did. Eventually.

Brody insisted he did not need GPS. He “knew the route.”

He did not know the route.

After an hour of desert landscape with zero ocean in sight, he finally sighed and handed you his phone.

“Okay. Maybe guide me. Maybe.”

Once you rerouted, he slumped in embarrassment.

“I’m never gonna hear the end of this at the tower,” he muttered.

You didn’t tease him. That surprised him. He peeked at you, softened slightly, and said, “Thanks. Seriously.”