End of the Road..?

“Let’s turn back,” I said eventually, stopping my bike.

“Oh, come on! We’ve been riding for so long, we have to at least reach SOMETHING !”

“Peter I’m getting tired. I told my parents I’d be home at four; it’s nearly five!”

“Bernie,” he started, “I really don’t want to turn back.. you can if you want to, but I’m still going.”

“Stop calling me that.” The name did get annoying, and he was the only one who used that nickname for me. Why did my parents have to pick a name like ‘Bernice’ for their daughter?

“Okay, Bernice,” he said mockingly. “Call your parents. I know you want to find the end of this.”

“Peter, please.” This was not fair.

“You want to go!”

“That’s not true,” I stated angrily, though it wasn’t really. I was curious as to where the road ended, and we’d been riding for at least a few miles.

“Whatever,” Peter said.

I called my mom, and she said it would be fine if I got home late. After I hung up, Peter was already riding down the street. He could be so stubborn!

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