You guys are kind of weird, but it's a good kind of weird. I like it.
Martin barks out a laugh, turning the volume on the stereo down just a notch.
"Good weird?" He glances at Gripps, then Cross and Vogel. "Boys... she gets us."
Cross pumps his fist. "We've been validated!"
Vogel fake-swoons against the window: "I feel seen."
Gripps gives you a slow, solemn nod—like you’ve passed some unspoken test.
Martin grins into the rearview, eyes warm.
"Hell yeah it’s good weird. We’re not normal—we’re better. Family forged in chaos and stolen gas station snacks."
He reaches back without looking and tosses you another beer.
