The summer is sought by every student as soon as the school year begins. As the year comes to a close, our fingers stretch out greedily for the next square on the calendar that brings us closer to the last month, the last week, the last day of school. The days eventually scrape by, and however begrudgingly, school yields to the warm season and a sense of relaxation washes over belabored students. Although the fruitful summer gives leisure, it can quickly turn to boredom. My friends and I felt the effect of this overwhelming excess of time and we came together to make plans. We came to a general accord that the zoo would satiate our appetite for activities. Two cars would be caravanning; two of my friends and I in a car, and my friend and her boyfriend in his. Trips to the zoo are very scarce for me, so I wanted to document these rare sights with a very nice camera I managed to pry from my dad’s hands. After being picked up I stared idly out the passenger window while my friend was driving. My eyes flickered to points of mild interest; suburban streets, kids playing, then a gas station, then more established and busy roads, then the highway. I flashed back to reality when I felt my phone vibrate. My eyes immediately flicked to the camera, which sat safely on my lap. I took out my phone and it said my friend from the other car was calling. After picking up, she conveyed to me that two different cars had pulled up alongside them and told them that they were leaking some fluid pretty badly. We pulled over into the first parking lot we could. I observed the line of liquid trailing on the road behind us. He popped open the hood. An odd smell of hot metal and burning plastic emanated from the entangled machinery. There was a consensus to abandon our expedition and head home, seeing as there was indeed something wrong, but we lacked the means to fix it. We got back into our respective cars. He slowly backed up and turned and stopped. After frustrated looks, he got out of the car and told us that it wasn’t going any further; it just wouldn’t move. We called in the big guns; my friend’s dad. He showed up in about 45 minutes and deduced that it was transmission fluid leaking from the wounded car. He ran to the nearest place he could to buy transmission fluid. After topping the car off, we sped home. I could smell the burning from his car from the inside of our own. We stopped frequently to fill the car with more fluid, because it was still leaking profusely. Finally after four stops or so, we made it home from our almost-day at the zoo. I returned and gave my dad his camera back without it having batted a shutter or flashed a light. One day of summer down.
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