Which prompts that confident hand with the little booklet in it to slant away. (The faintest narrowing of how he has his knees arranged, as if to contract the width of space he occupies.) The man in the passenger seat gives him a sharp look, steely eye bright in his tired face.

"Keep to yourself."

He punctuates it—illustrates it—with a flicking motion of the pen. You hold down your side of the bench seat, and he'll hold his.