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“Look,” John says slowly, turning back towards Gale. His voice is pitched low, slow like he meant every word, “Not to dredge up the previous conversation or nothin’ but I really mean it. We can put that in the trunk. Bury it in the backyard. Not make it weird. I’d like us to be friends.”
Finding himself fighting a smile again, Gale presses a finger to his lips, “You seem like a good sort of guy to have as a friend.”
John’s eyes crinkle up as he smiles, dragging the expression all over his face in laugh lines, “Oh, I’m the best.”
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