By Mark Traphagen on July 17, 2011
Ben turned around and offered me his fist. I punched it softly, even though I hated that greeting. “Q!” he shouted over the music. “How good does this feel?”
And I knew exactly what Ben meant: he meant listening to the the Mountain Goats with your friends in a car that runs on a Wednesday morning in May on the way to Margo and whatever Margotastic prize came with finding her.
John Green, Paper Towns
Photo by Whiskeygonebad http://www.flickr.com/photos/badwsky/ Creative Commons License