“Throw down the keys!” Greg’s up-reached hand waited for the familiar thud.
“I can’t. Dad’s home and he’s suspicious. He says I can’t go camping with you.”
“You’re eighteen, Marco. He can’t stop you. And anyway, you can love whoever you want. Just throw down the damn keys.”
“Will he be there?”
“Who?” Greg was going to make Marco work for it.
“Josh… as if you didn’t know.”
“Yeah, he says he can’t wait to see you.”
The keys plopped into Greg’s hand. “Pack your stuff. I’ll be back as soon as I pick up the beer. No chickening out!”