5
The Camaro
Dean
"It's shanking left," Max said, his hand held over his eyes, looking up into the sky, moments after my driver whacked the ball.
"It is not," I said, looking in the same direction. "It's getting so it's not even fun to play with you when you say things like that."
Sure enough, as Max and I watched my ball soar through the air, a swift breeze off the lake came in and blew it off course to the left and into a tall patch of rough grass.
"Damn. I hate it when you're right."
I saw the cheeky hidden grin on his face.How could I stay mad at him. He was one of my best friends in the world. All he'd done was call what he was seeing. Why did he always have to be right, about so many things?
"How do you always see these things coming?"
Max pointed a finger and tapped it agai
