The Driver’s uniform

Cesar shrugged his sweatshirt up and pulled it over his head. Underneath was a tight spandex shirt, the type of thing worn by cyclists. Two different shades of green swooshed back and forth across his chest. He tossed the sweatshirt on the picnic table bench and peeled off his driving gloves. His scars were bright pink against his palms.
Danielle looked at the shirt. “What’s with the green?”
“You like it?” He flexed his arms, then set his fists against his hips. “I’m thinking this could be my uniform, y’know?”
“Your uniform?” echoed Gibbs.
“You know, bro, like, my costume. My super-suit. If I’m stepping up like this, I got to look the part, right? Green for go, like driving. Get it?”

Excerpt From Ex-Isle, pg 188
Peter Clines
https://books.apple.com/us/book/ex-isle/id989619017