Travis yells, “Floor it!” And Bailey lets out a little squeal as she goes flying back against the seat.
I’m still crying, but now I’m also laughing because I’m free, and none of them can possibly understand. “You will never know what it’s like to be trapped in your house like a veal,” I say to Mr. Dominguez. “This is the best day of my life!” Even to me, my laughter sounds maniacal, but it doesn’t feel that way. It feels big and sincere and endless, like I could laugh from now until the end of my life without interruption.
And as ridiculous as it sounds, I mean it. This is the best day of my life. I’m on the highway now and everything is whooshing by, but then I start whooshing along with it all, just like everyone else, like I actually belong out here in this world. Like I could drive all the way up into the clouds, propelled by happiness and freedom.
Someone turns on the music—“All Right Now” by Free. In the rearview mirror I can see Travis air-banging his head, and poor Bailey clutching at my seat, blond hair blowing everywhere. The song plays on and on as I practice passing in and out of lanes, long enough that eventually all of us, even Bailey, sing the chorus.
Two blocks from school, Mr. Dominguez makes us roll up the windows and sit up straight. But as I pull into the parking lot, we’re all still singing.
After the Conversation Circle, Libby and I walk out of the gym together. We walk up the stairs and through the halls, side by side, and then we walk out to the parking lot. I want to hold her hand, but I don’t, and my brain grabs onto this with both fists. Why don’t you hold her hand? Keshawn, Natasha, and the rest of them are ahead of us, so it’s just Libby and me.
I say, “I was wondering, hypothetically speaking, if you’d go out with me this weekend.”
She either pretends to think about this or actually thinks about this.
“Take your time. You’ve got approximately two more minutes to respond.”
“Until the offer expires?”
“Until I ask you again.”
She gives me a smile that’s all slinky and seductive. In this low voice, she goes, “I think, hypothetically, it sounds like fun.”
Jack is five minutes early. His hair is as wildly gigantic as usual, but damp, as if he just stepped out of the shower, and I’m sitting next to him on the couch, and he smells like soap and so much man. I try not to stare at his hands, resting on his knees, at the way his skin looks even more gold against the dark blue of his jeans.
I’ve warned my dad that Jack is coming. That Jack is my friend. That Jack is taking me out for MY FIRST DATE EVER. Yes, the same Jack you met in the principal’s office.
I hold my breath as we sit, the three of us (four, counting George, blinking at Jack from the back of my dad’s chair), in an awkward triangle of So Many Things Not Being Said. My dad and Jack are making chitchat, and Jack does most of the talking. My dad watches him like he’s trying to uncover his true intentions. He isn’t necessarily being warm and friendly, but he’s not being rude either, which is something to be grateful for.
But then Will Strout goes, “You can imagine how surprised I was when Libby told me she wanted to go out with you.”
“I can.”
“I know my daughter’s amazing, but the question is if you do.”
“I’m learning that.”
“She seems to trust you, and she wants me to trust you too.”
“I understand why you wouldn’t. All I can do is try to prove myself to both of you, sir.”
“Can you give me three good reasons I should let her leave the house with you tonight?”
“I acted like an asshole, but I’m not an asshole. I never meant to hurt your daughter. I would never purposely hurt your daughter.”
Dad looks at me, and I try to give him a look that says Please forgive him and let me go so that I don’t die an old maid, and besides I really like him, even if you think it sounds crazy, and please, please trust me.
He says to Jack, “So where are you planning on taking my daughter this evening?” He keeps saying my daughter like he’s trying to drive the point home. THIS IS MY CHILD, MY FLESH AND BLOOD. DO YOU KNOW HOW DEAD YOU WILL BE IF YOU DO ANYTHING TO MESS WITH MY ONLY KID?!
“I thought we’d see a movie and get something to eat.”
“You’ll bring her home by eleven o’clock.”
Me: “I’m a junior in high school.”
Dad: “Yes, you are.”
Me: “How about midnight?”
Dad: “How about ten thirty?”
Me (to Jack): “I need to be home by eleven.”
Jack (laughing): “Not a problem. I promise to get her home by then, if not before.”
Not too much before, I think.
My dad says to him, “When was the last time you had your car serviced?”
And now I can’t tell if he’s just messing with Jack or if he’s being serious. I try to send him a telepathic message: Please stop this. Please lighten up. There’s a good chance he’s going to destroy my chances here before I can, and maybe Jack isn’t my last opportunity to have a male nonrelation love me, but he’s certainly my best opportunity right now, and besides, I actually like him.
I like Jack Masselin.
“August. I’m actually pretty handy, so I did it myself.”
Dad studies him for what seems like the rest of my life. “You know, your father and I went to school together. We played on the football team in middle school and in high school.”
And it’s not exactly I’m so thrilled you’re taking my daughter out, but it’s something.
In the car I say, “I’m sorry about my dad.”
“Are you kidding? He has every reason to kick my ass. If I was him, I’d never let me near you.”
But all I hear is I just want to be near you, Libby Strout. I want to kiss your lips right off your face.
Jack says, “He’s just protective, and he should be, especially after what I did to you. That’s how I’d be if I ever had a daughter.”
But what I hear is I will always be protective of you. I will always look after you and our daughter, the one we’re going to have together after we get married and I am loving you forever.
I’m in the same car, only fifteen years in the future—somewhere far away from Amos. Jack Masselin is next to me like he is now, only our kids are in the backseat, or maybe just one kid—the daughter—my hand on his leg. I stare at his leg and then at his hands on the wheel. I bet you’ll be a wonderful father.
I’m not sure where we’re going, but we’re headed to the east side of town, where the restaurants and the movie theater are. This is where my dad and I lived until they had to destroy our house to get me out.
As if he can read my mind, Jack says, “Didn’t you use to live on this side of town?”
“Once upon a time. So where are we going?”
He grins at me, and I melt into the seat. My insides have gone warm and soft, and I lean into this feeling because it’s not something I have all the time. It’s okay to be happy, I hear Rachel say. It’s okay to let yourself enjoy the good times.
Tonight could be the night. My Pauline Potter work-off-the-weight sex night. Jack Masselin, you just might be my first.
He says, “I was thinking we’d get something to eat and take it from there.” But he might as well say I’m taking you to the moon and back, and while we’re up there, I’m going to collect the stars for you so that you can keep them.
And suddenly I’m thinking about the daughter we’re destined to have. Beatrice, I think. We’ll name her Beatrice.
We drive past Olive Garden, Applebee’s, and the Red Lobster that opened last month. I’m mentally ticking through all the restaurants in town—there aren’t many—but we pass one after the other. I half expect him to just circle around and take me home, no food, no date. Or maybe drive across the Ohio line where no one will recognize him or me or us.
But then we’re leaving Amos, and my heart deflates a little, which tells me I didn’t actually expect him to do this, and now he’s doing it—smuggling me over city lines like the daughter of some wealthy oil baron.
“Where are we going?” My voice sounds flat, as if it’s underridden a semi about fifty times.