Part 18 (1/2)
sixteenthings.indd 111 9/9/13 2:21 PM.
J a n e t G u r t l e r I don't answer and frown as the CD progresses to a happy song about summer fun.
”I guess I've tried hard not to really think about it too much,” I finally say. ”Like what if he slams the door in my face or calls me a liar?” I look out the window. ”How do I handle that?”
Amy turns down the volume on the CD.
”Maybe you should call him,” Adam suggests from the back.
”Instead of just showing up at his door?”
”Surprise is the only element I have control over. I don't want to give him a chance to prepare. I want to see him react. I want to watch him recognize me. I want to hear an unrehea.r.s.ed explanation for breaking my mother's heart and missing every day of my life. ”
Something flashes by the window and there's a sudden pop outside.
”OH EM GEE!” Amy shouts.
I glance over and her eyes are wide and she's gripping the steering wheel tight and sitting straight up in her seat.
”Amy?”
Her lips are pressed tightly together. I glance around, and there are no cars behind or ahead of us, but I hear a flapping sound ”Was that the tire?” Adam says from the backseat.
The car b.u.mps a few times and then begins to slow. Amy steers the clunky car off to the side of the road. It's not a smooth transition to the shoulder as we gradually come to a stop. There's no one around, just open farmer's fields on both sides.
”It was the tire,” she says. We sit in shocked silence until she flips on the hazards and pops the hatch open.
”Holy c.r.a.p.” I open my door and step outside.
112.
sixteenthings.indd 112 9/9/13 2:21 PM.
chapter ten.
5. Real girls don't change car tires.
#thingsIthoughtweretrue A dam scrambles out of the car. Amy shuts off the engine and joins us at the front b.u.mper. We all stand there and stare at the pa.s.senger tire.
It's completely flat.
”Let me guess,” Amy says. ”None of us knows how to fix this?”
”Boy fail,” Adam says.
”Thank G.o.d my parents insisted on AAA.” Amy looks around.
”This is like a scene in one of those horror movies. Maybe we're going to get attacked by vampires or zombies.”
”For G.o.d's sake, call AAA,” Adam says. ”You watch too many scary movies.”
”There's no Wi- Fi or satellite,” I tell them, holding my phone in the air. ”No bars. We're out of range. My phone is useless. We're S- O- L.”
”Totally flip flop screwed,” Amy says. Her teeny voice sounds like Alvin from the Chipmunks. Adam and I glance at each other and burst into laughter.
sixteenthings.indd 113 9/9/13 2:21 PM.
J a n e t G u r t l e r ”I'm glad you find this funny.” She walks around the car and opens the driver's side door. ”Maybe my phone has bars. Adam, get yours out too. Maybe we can get service.” Suddenly she's the mature one in our little group. ”We need to get this fixed before the border closes down. We'll miss the ferry to Vancouver Island.”
The laughter in my throat vaporizes. Amy takes out her phone and Adam grabs his brand- new replacement phone, but none of us has service. We sit on the car and stare at the highway. The sun is s.h.i.+ning. Two cars approach from the opposite way, and we all jump up and wave our arms around. Neither slows even though it's kind of obvious we're having car trouble.
I think about all the times I've seen people pulled over and con- sidered stopping but kept going. I vow to stop next time. And then I think about my healthy fear of serial killers on the side of the highways. Maybe not.
”Come on,” I say. ”We might find a spot where we can pick up service. There has to be a farm or something around here some- where. There has to be Wi- Fi. We need to find a pocket.”
We walk along the shoulder of the highway, holding our phones in the air, watching for bars. Then we cross the highway to the field where cows are grazing nearby. Amy slips through the barbed fence. I shrug and follow her, trying hard not to get scratched by the barbed wire. Adam stays on the other side of the fence, staring at us.
”What?” Amy says. ”Come on.”
”There are cows in that field,” he says, pointing out the obvious.
”So?”
”So what if they charge us or something?”
114.
sixteenthings.indd 114 9/9/13 2:21 PM.
1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e Amy stands on her toes and looks around. ”I don't see any calves.
If we walk quietly and respect them, they're not going to bother us.”
”How do you know?” Adam doesn't move. ”I've read about people being charged by cows.”
”Are you kidding me?” Amy asks. ”You're afraid of being charged by cows? This is not very bosslike.”
”It's happened.” Adam pushes his gla.s.ses up his nose and lifts his chin. ”Maybe one of us should wait by the car, in case someone stops to help. And by 'one of us,' I mean me. I hate cows.”
”So you'd rather have two girls get charged than you?” Amy asks him.
”No.” He looks toward the car. ”Like you said, you'll be fine. But cows freak me out. I don't even like eating hamburgers.”
We both stare at him.