Guilt and regret are like tectonic plates in my chest, hitting and creating a mountain of doubt. I don’t know why I agreed to leave with Nessie nearly three weeks early to travel back to Seattle. I could spend these last weeks with our parents, soaking up more of the Florida sun, taking another trip to Disney World, and enjoying time with my family and friends, but instead, I chose a meteor shower.
Mom pulls back, the gold chain she wears around her neck catching the light of the sun before she hugs Vanessa. Dad engulfs me in a bear hug. I appreciate these moments with him. I’ve watched some dads get weird around their daughters—hugs become side-hugs, and they act like hearing the word tampon or period will scar their manhood. Our dad has immersed himself into the world of being a girl dad and embraces the fact, loving us to the point he learned how to French braid, the names of each Disney Princess, and the value of good chocolate when one of us was having a bad day.
“You guys will remember to text us periodically? And stick together. No drinking or texting while driving. And no picking up any hitchhikers,” Dad says as he pulls back, his eyes red and heavy from lack of sleep. He hasn’t been subtle about his concerns for our trip, which is likely why I’ve kept my concerns mostly to myself until this afternoon. It’s not that his concerns aren’t valid—some of them even match my own—it’s just that hearing his concerns about something that started as my idea makes me wish even more that I could be easygoing.
Stubborn and strong-willed are my middle names, hyphenated only by my love for adventure. However, this trip was supposed to be a girls’ trip. We were supposed to drive across the country with our good friend Meredith, sightseeing along the way and soaking up the feeling of independence and freedom before going back for our junior year and apartment hunting, job hunting, and full-time classes.
Then everything changed.
Meredith broke her femur and is now flying back to Seattle in four weeks. Vanessa got tired of discussing the pros and cons of different apartments in and around Seattle, and unbeknownst to me, chose the smallest on our shortlist that had only been on it because of her insistence. It’s the most expensive, tiny, and has no patio. Then, to turn things into full upheaval, she made plans with Cooper to take this trip that has us leaving two weeks earlier than originally planned because he has to be back in time for football season.
I’m grateful, it just feels like the one time Mom made mashed potatoes and burnt the bottom layer—the top looked okay, but it still tasted burnt.
I take a deep breath of the humid air and remind myself why this will be okay. Arriving earlier than planned will allow us more time to job hunt and get settled, and though I’m concerned about what might happen between Nessie and Cooper, there are far worse ways to spend the last few weeks of summer than on a road trip across the country.
Nessie pats my shoulder like she can hear my silent resolve. “This is going to be amazing. Epic.”
“Is that them?” Mom asks as a large black SUV slows and turns into the driveway.
I shake my head. “N—” I start, knowing Cooper was planning to drive his grandma’s old Honda.
“Yes,” Nessie says, cutting me off, her lips pulled wide at the corners as she winces.
Panic sets in.
Mom and Dad move down the driveway to welcome Cooper as Nessie leans closer. “This was the only way. It’s going to be a short trip, we’re going to see several cities, and it’s going to be amazing.” Her words come out rushed.
And then Tyler Banks appears from the driver’s side, and every reason for not wanting to go multiplies tenfold.
“What is he doing here?” I hiss, my attention cutting to my sister as accusation drips from my words.
The biggest, cheesiest, and fakest smile she can muster slowly appears on Nessie’s face. “He’s going with us?” It sounds like a question. One I’m hoping to debate.
I grip Nessie’s arm as she starts to turn away. “What are you talking about?”
“He has a work thing, and this worked out perfectly. His car is bigger, and we’ll save a ton on hotels.”
“No.” I shake my head, still believing I have some say in the matter.
Nessie drops her chin. “Come on. It won’t be that bad. Tomorrow, we’ll be in New Orleans, dancing to jazz music and eating all the amazing food. Focus on the positives.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
“I couldn’t. I knew if I did, you’d say no.”
I glance toward the car to ensure they’re out of earshot. “Because I hate him,” I hiss.
Nessie frowns. “Don’t even start. You barely know Tyler. You spend all your time avoiding him.”
I try not to glower. “I know enough about him to know he’s an asshole—hence why I avoid him.”
Vanessa stamps her fists onto her hips that, despite our similar genes, are narrower than mine. Likely because she’s a cheerleader at Brighton University and works out like it’s her job. Meanwhile, I spent the summer indulging in Mom’s homemade food and the cookies Dad hides in the bread box, knowing Mom won’t find them there because she doesn’t like bread, which is almost as strange as it is appalling. “He’s not that bad.”
“He’s so cocky. And last year when you made me go to that Halloween party, I saw him make out with three different girls. Three. At one party.”
Nessie shrugs. “I’ve heard worse.”
“That doesn’t make it any better.”
Before she can reply, Dad’s beside us again. “Do you
