Cover Me (Slowly) + Agoraphobia by Deerhunter.

  I think we started to get the better of ourselves around midnight. At which point we'd been driving for the better part of the night, three hours? Something like that. Between the five of us, there were two couples, and Michael, that poor, third, or in this case, fifth wheeling *******. He was fortunate enough to be under the influence with the rest of us, barring Evan, our resident designated driver. As far as drugs went Evan held himself on our level, he was cool with whatever we were doing, but it wasn't his bag. He only really ever mentioned in passing why, but it had a lot to do with his mom, being how he was raised and all.

So like I was saying,  Kate, per usual, was sitting beside Evan in the front of his wearing, rusty green dodge pickup. Kate made a point to keep herself warm on our late night excursions, as far as I could tell, she was perpetually cold. For the eight -hundred he paid for it he probably got about two-grand worth of use out of it, he's had it for four, or I should now say five years now. Evan got the trunk on Kate's 16th Birthday, though, at that time they weren't together. Tonight is Kate's twenty-first birthday. Michael laid across the back bench seating of the truck, low enough that there was no way to tell anyone was back there unless you were looking right down from beside the window. He couldn't stand the seatbelt receptors jabbing into his back but Evan made more of a fuss if he stuffed them into the seat, so he put up with it, counting the rips and stitches in roofs material.