Leo shifted his gaze. He saw a tucked between the sodas. "Is that actually good?"
The trucker pointed a weathered finger at the bottom shelf. "Get the or a bottled cold brew . No sugar, just the caffeine. If your nerves are already fried, grab a sparkling water —the bubbles trick your brain into thinking you’re snacking."
The neon hum of the "Stop ‘n Go" was the only thing keeping Leo awake at 2:00 AM. He had six hours of desert highway left and a stomach that was beginning to protest a three-day diet of beef jerky and blue electrolyte drinks.
He stood before the glowing wall of the beverage cooler, his reflection looking haggard against the glass. His hand instinctively hovered over a sugar-blasted energy drink—the kind that promised "Xtreme Focus" but usually delivered a heart tremor and a mid-drive crash. "Don't do it, man," a voice croaked from the aisle.
"Probiotics," the trucker nodded. "Settles the road-gut. Or look for the . It’s got more potassium than those neon sports drinks without the corn syrup."
Leo jumped. An old trucker was leaning against a display of motor oil, peeling a banana. "That stuff's just liquid panic. You want to actually get there?"
Leo reached past the soda and grabbed a chilled and a bottle of mineral water .
Leo shifted his gaze. He saw a tucked between the sodas. "Is that actually good?"
The trucker pointed a weathered finger at the bottom shelf. "Get the or a bottled cold brew . No sugar, just the caffeine. If your nerves are already fried, grab a sparkling water —the bubbles trick your brain into thinking you’re snacking."
The neon hum of the "Stop ‘n Go" was the only thing keeping Leo awake at 2:00 AM. He had six hours of desert highway left and a stomach that was beginning to protest a three-day diet of beef jerky and blue electrolyte drinks.
He stood before the glowing wall of the beverage cooler, his reflection looking haggard against the glass. His hand instinctively hovered over a sugar-blasted energy drink—the kind that promised "Xtreme Focus" but usually delivered a heart tremor and a mid-drive crash. "Don't do it, man," a voice croaked from the aisle.
"Probiotics," the trucker nodded. "Settles the road-gut. Or look for the . It’s got more potassium than those neon sports drinks without the corn syrup."
Leo jumped. An old trucker was leaning against a display of motor oil, peeling a banana. "That stuff's just liquid panic. You want to actually get there?"
Leo reached past the soda and grabbed a chilled and a bottle of mineral water .
