But there we were, moving into our first apartment right off campus.
Dad let out a long, low whistle. “Woo-wee. Good thing this place looks like it’s worth the price tag, or I’d be asking for a refund on that two-for-one deal we got eighteen years ago.”
When he laughed at himself, my mother admonished him with only atskand a gentle slap on his shoulder. Her reaction explained why his dad jokes hadn’t stopped.
He’d started making them when we’d been six, or so he reminded us. And as he told it, we’d been such a captive audience, laughing outrageously at things we didn’t understand, that Dad took his one-man show on the road for the rest of our lives.
We didn’t have the heart to tell him he wasn’tthatfunny.
But since my mom and dad were basically the best parents ever, I figured being embarrassed by him, especially when he made jokes in public, was the least we could do.
A rite of passage.
Of all the things they’d done for us over the years, the apartment stood out as one of the coolest, and the list wasn’t short by any means. We were lucky.
Hashtag blessed, and all that.
Economically, it would’ve made the most sense for us to keep living at the house, but the commute from home to the campus in the heart of Mosaic Falls averaged thirty minutes on a good day. During rush hour, we’d spend more time in the car than my parents saw as reasonable. Getting us an apartment worked out to be roughly the same as on-campus housing.
Especially since three of us would share the place.
Blake stretched across the aisle between our bucket seats in the minivan, leaning over my lap to peer through the window.
He also whistled his first view of the gates. “Shit’s about to get real, Addie Bo Baddie.” He arched a brow. “You ready for this?”
With his face suddenly—alarmingly—close to my breasts, I squeaked out, “Yes.”
The corner of his mouth tipped up into the half-smile I couldn’t resist.
I forced myself to take small breaths, torn between assisting him in an accidental boob graze and remembering my parents were in the car long enough to calm my tits.
Blake pulled away before I embarrassed myself either way.
He turned around in his seat to face Adam. My brother had long ago called eternal dibs on the third-row seats, leaving Blake and I to share the middle row.
Neither of us had argued against his claim.
On longer road trips, we played car games with my parents while Adam sequestered himself in the back, usually with his headphones on or sound asleep.
But Adam’s ability to doze off during a thirty-minute drive to campus, as if we’d taken a mundane cruise to the grocery store—not toward our future—needed to be studied.
I didn’t understand a lot of his behavior, but his lack of excitement over today stood out.
Eagerness to arrive had kept me awake half the night.
Blake slapped the side of Adam’s thigh, jolting him awake. He whipped off his headphones, his hands flying wildly before he registered Blake and me staring at him.
Scooping the fallen headphones off the floor, he grumbled sleepily. “Jerk. What’d you do that for?”
“Easy, crabby pants.” Blake pointed out the window. “We’re here.”
We all looked up at the building that would be our home for the next four years, glancing between each other. Despite his ability to remain nonplussed, even Adam’s excitement rose. An overwhelming sense of our impending freedom filled the car, hitting us simultaneously.
As I considered all the opportunities D’Arthur University presented, like its community arts program through the College of Health and Human Performance, I bounced in my seat.
I hardly believed the two fools beside me had planted the seeds for my college dreams, especially as they scrambled to get out of the car, with Adam fighting to climb from the back and beat Blake through the open door.
My goal of working in programs designed around art and children made more sense, though, as they elbowed each other like a bunch of toddlers.
