“I’ve been there,” Cole said, pointing to a sign that said ‘Georgetown, turn left,’ as they drove up I-70, heading to the Tunnel. “We went to some Christmas thing they do. It was fun. Well, to a kid it was.”
“Did you ever go across the Divide?”
“Nope. Some of the guys I went to school with, did—every weekend in the winter. But I wasn’t into skiing or boarding.”
“I’m with you on that. I’d rather sit on a beach than trudge through a ton of snow, freezing my ass off.”
“I’ve never been to a real beach.”
“You’re kidding. As soon as this is over, I’m taking you down to Punta Cana. You’ll love it.”
“If you say so,” Cole replied, having no idea where or what that was.
Ky must have picked up on that, because he spent the next twenty minutes extolling the wonders of the resort area, while the
