Nothing was left in the tank. The car had screamed at Greg miles ago that it needed sustenance, but Greg drove on anyway. Why should the car get what Greg could not?
It had been twenty days since she had left him. Now Ginny was on the west coast with her new job and new friends, and here he was in Cleveland, no money, no gas, and no chance of undoing any of his mistakes. To think at one time Greg was her bad boy. Now he was just being bad.
He left the keys inside the stolen car and began walking home. Sometimes you needed a long walk to clear your mind, but all the way to Atlantic City?
After two miles his feet were screaming. Okay, maybe this walk was a bit melodramatic, but it would be a great story to tell Ginny’s sister. She was hotter anyway.