It was packed tight with what looked like enough supplies for a month-long excursion. “That’s a lot of beer,” I said, counting four cases stacked up on the seat. “With so many of us, it’s not that much.” His voice was muffled as he rearranged things to make room for my bag. “Yeah, but everyone brings their own, and you packed four bottles of hard liquor in the back.” “I didn’t know what you like. Pass me your bag.” Handing over my tattered purple backpack, I smiled. Ryke had put a lot of effort into buying and packing all this stuff. It was a role reversal for us, since usually I was the one planning and doing the legwork. “Hey, thanks for doing this,” I said. He backed out of the car and shut the door, grinning victoriously and wiping a hand across his forehead. “I wanted to. We both need to get away.
