With his arm still draped around Colby’s shoulders, Van leads the way down a side street a few blocks from the beach. As they approach a new Jeep Wrangler, topless, with half-doors on the front and a fiery burnt orange custom paint job that gleams in the last of the sun’s rays, Colby thanks God he didn’t offer to drive. His dumpy little Bug barely fit himself most days—there’s no way he and Van could cruise in it comfortably. Van’s Jeep has all the ruggedness of a beach buggy mixed with the sexy appeal of a sports car, and Colby has to refrain from leaping over the half-door to slide into the passenger seat like some overeager kid. As it is, he can’t help holding onto the roll bar as he climbs in, and once he’s buckled into place, he grabs the canvas hand grip that hangs from the bar above
