Assholes.

It’s 105 degrees as the daylight gushes into our vehicle. Inside, with solid black interior and windows rolled up, I can feel the dryness mummifying my skin. We listen to the hum of the AC as a gust of cool air snails its way to the rear of the car.

Aly, in the passenger seat with wheat-brown hair standing on end, turns to the us and says, “Dan, am I an asshole?”

Dan clears his throat, “There are things you’ve done that can be seen that way.”

“Like what?” Aly says.

“Like how you blasted techno music while I was sleeping this morning.”

“You were awake!”

“I was in lying in bed with one eye open,” Dan says. “And let’s not forget how you’re trying to hook up with girls while you have a wife. So yeah, I guess you’re an asshole.”

Aly, cranks his neck further to look at me, “Adam, do you think I’m an asshole?”

“Definitely. You’re an asshole,” I say.

“How am I an asshole! You’re the asshole,” Aly raises his voice. “What kind of person says he’s going to visit his cousins in Houston, then makes them drive two hours to pay for his AirBnB in Austin? An asshole, that’s who!”

I smile, it’s true. “I may be an asshole but you’re more of an asshole.”

“You don’t know how it is at home. My wife does horrible things to me. She made me this way” Aly says.

“You’re an asshole because you steal the girls I want,” Sheriff says while taking his eyes off the road.

“Those girls wanted me. I try to hook you up but you always have this depressed look on your face,” Aly fires back.

I agree, “Girls decide who they want to be with. No girl wants to hang out with a mopey-looking mother fucker. If you think you’re owed something then you’re an asshole too, Sheriff.”

“Ok, so everyone is an asshole,” Aly says, “even Dan.”

“Yeah, but you’re a bigger asshole,” Dan says. “The biggest.”

“How am I the biggest? You guys think I’m the biggest asshole here?” Aly asks

“Yes!” we answer.

Aly turns back in his seat.

For my summer vacation, I slipped away from the LA madness to be consumed by the Austin heat. The car is quiet again as we head through the cityscape, our last moments in Austin. Four days together: dancing in open-air clubs and hollering at girls to brokering drug deals and diving into the cool clear waters of Barton Springs. Overall, an eventful journey and I’m thankful it’s over. So much so that I feel a cruel joy in our final conversations. A revelation of characters and an acceptance of reality. Humility the hard way.

While facing forward, Aly breaks the silence. “You guys are the assholes.”