The hood of the van is pretty sturdy, so it can definitely support both Luce and Lamont and the case of beer sitting between them. They're parked somewhere so far from civilization that when it's especially dark, like now, it really isn't so hard to believe what they say about there being more stars than grains of sand on a beach. That kind of would just sound ridiculous on any night other than this. They would have stayed in the car but with all of Luce's things taking up the backseat, and still more delivery boxes crammed in, there's barely any room left. But who cares. Feels nice out.

Tonight Luce is the escape artist and Lamont is providing the getaway van. This is the way it's always been, for years and years, except this isn't make-believe anymore. Lamont is driving because Luce's license has been revoked for reasons he wouldn't care to explain to his parents. That's all well and good because it looks like they won't be in contact with him for a while anyway.

These two have been friends for half their lives but Luce still never tells Lamont anything. Lamont has learned not to ask. Last night he got the phone call, "I've packed a suitcase already so fill 'er up with gas and come get me in the morning."

"I've got to meet some people in Delacruz in the morning."

"Then pick me up first an' we'll both go to Delacruz. They ain't got a damn clock to punch, I do. Ten o'clock." And he hung up.

This morning was the first time they'd seen each other face-to-face in months. There was just that much of a distance between Luce's college and their hometown; Lamont had gotten up at six that morning to make it on time for whatever this thing was. Luce had been waiting at the edge of his fancy med school parking lot when the van rolled up. He tossed the bag in the back and swung into the passenger seat without Lamont even having to move. Luce was unshaven for once and looked like he'd been awake for two days straight, which wouldn't have been much of a stretch. But Lamont sensed an energy of excitement from him that hadn't been there since before they were teenagers.

"Where am I even taking you?"

Luce was lighting a cigarette. He gave him a sidelong glance. "I thought you said Delacruz."

Then Lamont saw what this was all about.

Delacruz is far out of the way of this little college town so they had a lengthy drive ahead of them. Luce was content to roll down the window, lean back, and let Lamont talk most of the way. After business was done there, they hit up the liquor store around dusk and got back on the highway.

So here they are.

Luce is obviously a night person, so he was already drunk on the atmosphere before popping open the first bottle. There's a small part of Lamont that notices that Luce will only open up to him with alcohol in his system, and he resents it because if he's put up with this man for so many years he ought to get some special privileges. Then he feels embarrassed for even considering it. But the blonde is actually quite companionable after a few beers, so no complaints there.

"If I'd known how good this was gonna feel, I'd've done this four years ago, Mont," he's saying. "Just never had the balls. Always afraid I'd screw it up, I guess. But it was jus' so simple. This is great."

Lamont's eyes never quite adjusted to the darkness of the flat landscape spread before them. He's squinting. "Your parents aren't going to send a military squad after you? What about Laura?"

A noncommittal noise from the back of Luce's throat. "Laura's seen it comin', she's as smart as I am. And I bet she'd have done it herself, if she ever had to. She likes where she's at though." He finished off his current bottle and went for another one. "But nah, she didn't know it was gonna happen today, if that's what you meant."

Lamont isn't even sure what he meant. "What about your parents, though."

He's afraid that he asked the wrong question for a moment there, but then Luce says, "They can't just force me back into school, Lamont."

"I know that. I'm saying, if they can't do that, what will they do."

Luce flexes his shoulders and considers the question. "They'll threaten to cut me off 'n the like, I guess. And it's not gonna work, so then they really will, and I'll have to make a living for m'self somehow. Sure I can do something w'this half a medical degree I've got." Here he looks at Lamont, grinning. "Y'know, it's really not sounding too bad to me. In all honesty."

Well, that was that, then. They observe a meteor shower for a minute in silence. Can't see this kind of thing in the city.

"Guess you'll be staying at my place," Lamont says after clearing his throat.

"Thought I might," is the reply. "'Til business starts booming, and I can get out of your hair, or whatever."

Lamont is positively thrilled to imagine the lingering scent of smoke clinging to all of his furniture. The company would be appreciated, though. He looks down at the still unopened drink he's been holding for too long.

"Luce," he ventures, "you weren't afraid you'd screw this up. You're just afraid you'll regret it and that they'll be right." This causes the other man to snap his head toward him, frowning as if Lamont had insulted his sister or something, but Lamont just arches his brow and doesn't back down. "Well?"

Luce shifts a little and his looming height over Lamont is emphasized, blacking out a patch of the stars. "Mont. I'm not gonna regret anything and we both know it. I'll sleep on the fucking streets if I have to, but I'm not going home," and this is sounding more and more familiar, from when they were twelve years old maybe and playing the renegades. But they aren't twelve anymore, and Lamont knows how Luce can hold a grudge, so he just nods and Luce continues. "I'll be sick an' I'll be miserable but damn it, I'm still gonna be a happy little camper, 'cos I made myself that way." He downed another portion of the bottle. "Just you watch."

Lamont chuckles quietly. The noise surprises his friend a little. "Alright, I believe you. So I'll be around for every overdose you have after squandering whatever cash you've got on meth or whatever. 'Cause I'll be watching."

Luce takes a moment to consider. "You sure as hell better be," he assures him, "every time," and raises his half-emptied glass to the sky.

The necks of their bottles clink together and they both just drink, because they're not going anywhere tonight, and these are some of the best drinks they'll ever have.