My buddy Roy and I were driving in the rain, to Lawrence. It had been pissing it down all night and morn. He said it was a date, but something told me otherwise, like it was some kind of joke, and I believed it. We were in his dad's red '78 Firebird convertible, with the top up and locked closed. Still, he rode with the driver side window down.

"I like to feel the wind when I go," he said to me once.

The rain felt endless. Like if you drove out to the emptiest highway in Missouri, Kansas, take your pick - it'd still be there, as sure as the sun rises tomorrow.

Riding out West together. Making small talk, comfortable and free of concern. It doesn't last much further than the border, however: We hit a pothole, and -

"Lost power steering," he says to me. "Gonna pull over," with much effort pulling off to the shoulder of the I-70. I get worried, and for once not for Roy. I consider that I didn't even think much of Lawrence, but he had his way of roping me into these things, and it worked every time.

"Whaddya think's the problem?" I ask.

He throws out a few options. "Oh, you know, alternator could be out. Or," and he continues, "the battery could need replacing."

These sounded... Bad. Maybe he had funds for a tow, sure, but the nearest payphone was far enough that I'd say to forget it entirely and just hitchhike home together.

"Al," he says, "Allen. Why so crunched up? We'll be fine, man."

I offer an involuntary sigh. "There's no way we can get to a payphone without catching a death-cold, dude, look outside - " and I gesture to his open window, letting in stray flecks of cold rain. "That's crazy."

"That's right" Roy laughs, "I'm crazy. But it could also be the serpentine belt."

The odds of the situation feel bad.

"That's an easy fix," he continues, "Hell, I even have the tools on me."

"Let's take a look?"

"Yeah, bud, let's get a gander at her."

Out in the pouring rain, we pop the hood and prop it. Sure enough, there's something amiss - the belt, the serpentine belt all tanglefucked and loose off the tensioner.

"Thank God," I mumble to myself as Roy makes quick work of it. Like this happened before. Like he knew this would happen.

"There we go!" Roy announces, with finality. "Like nothing happened."

And it hasn't been long, but he's drenched head to toe, his faded denim jacket all dark in the rain. I am too, but my first instinct is to usher him back inside like a wet puppy. He beams with pride at his rudimentary automotive know-how, and it's like this that he's the most handsome. Almost oblivious to the cares of the world. As if he doesn't even know it's raining.

"To Lawrence?" he asks, straight dripping on the leather seats.

"I'm only coming with cos I'm a sucker for you, you know that, right?"

He smiles, giddy, and it turns into a bark of a laugh. "Al, I'm a sucker for you too. A real Grade-A idiot."

He starts her up, tests the power steering quick. All's good.

"Are we ready to roll or what?" asks Roy.

I say, "Yeah, let's rock."

We trade a kiss and get back on the road.