Henry Cheng

Even without the annual Kavinsky shitshow, Adam's memories of the Fourth of July were not particularly favorable. It was a lot of his drunk dad and their drunk friends setting off fireworks and burning themselves. Or some drunk teenagers and their drunk friends tying a roman candle to a dog's tail or throwing them as close as they dared to people's windows. The thought of having someplace distant and almost sterilely civilized had its appeal.

And he knew that Ronan wouldn't go if he didn't.

So Adam went and parked himself with a Cola away from the window, rearranging the chips around the edge of his plate.