Jeff pulled up near the steps to the train platform.
“You got your ticket?” he asked Stephen.
“I don’t need no tickey. I’m driving back.”
“The hell you are. Even if you had a car – you’re drunk, dude.”
“So many cars here.” Stephen bent his head past Jeff to survey the lot. “There’s got to be one with the keys in the ignition. Or screw it, I’ll just jump it.”
“You don’t even know how.”
“Ha. Watch me.”
“You’re drunk. Go home to your wife.”
“My wife.” Stephen dipped his head, then turned and looked in the other direction. “I think it’ll be that Nissan Z over there. What do you say?”
“I say the train will be here any minute.”
Stephen grabbed the door handle, snapped it back and got out. Then he leaned back into the car, his breath heavy with booze.
“You comin’?” he asked.
“Steal a car.”
Stephen laughed, then slammed the door shut. The window was still open.
“See ya,” he said. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Happy B-day.”
“Happy B-day. B-day.” Stephen leaned down against the door. “I am taking a car.”
“Don’t call me when you get caught.”
"I never get caught,” he said, his voice firm. “That’s the shame of it.”
“Right.” Jeff put the car in gear.
Driving over the bridge, Jeff heard the train’s horn in the distance and wondered if Stephen was getting on.
“Always was an asshole,” Jeff said aloud. Then he turned the radio on to drown out the train.