The night was still young as you were blasting music down the road, the cool breeze rushing in through the rolled down window against which Boaz had propped up his arm. The atmosphere was typical for a Friday evening and Boaz seemed cheerful as ever, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in time with the beat of whatever song was playing on the radio, mouthing the lyrics as he was driving, the corners of his lips tugged up into a smirk while he occasionally glanced over at you.