The Chamberlain High car wash was such a frickin' cliche. Music playing, suds, half-naked cheerleaders washing cars, people ogling them. Cam had brought the cherry red '68 Mustang his uncle had found for him for his birthday, figuring it was okay to have the cheerleaders rubbing their tits all over it as long as nobody scratched it. It was clean and sitting across the parking lot, out of potential harm's way.
There were three football players helping to wash cars, and Cam was among them, mostly so he could take off his shirt and flaunt his abs and biceps. He was nothing if not honest with himself, even if he lied to everyone else.
He'd been scrubbing an SUV and having a brief water war with a couple of the girls and broke away from it, his smile at its most charming as he broke away to run fingers through damp hair and go for his bottle of water, which was out of the range of the hoses. Cam decided to take a quick break and stepped back even further, glancing over at the man standing near him. "Yo, Mr. Moore," he said, then guzzled half the bottle at one go.