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Gramps insists on taking me out for lunch to celebrate. When we return to the farm, he heads inside to watch the Jays play.
I hover on the front porch, still in my graduation dress, trying to figure out what to do with myself.
For the first time in a long time, I don’t have anything Ihaveto do. There’s no school assignment. No tests to study for. The horses don’t need to be brought in for another few hours. I don’t start working at theLandry Gazetteas a research assistant for another two weeks.
And there’s nothing Iwantto do.
Dropping into one of the two rocking chairs, I kick off my shoes and rest my bare toes on the porch banister, staring out at the grazing horses.
The bright sun pulls out the distinctive blue shade Kentucky grass is known for, rolling off in the distance as far as the eye can see. I gaze at the serene sight and admit the truth to myself.
There is one thing I’d like to do right now. Or more accurately, one person I’d like to see. But I’m sure he’s in the midst of the fancy graduation party his mother was planning the color scheme for months ago. And then he’s leaving tomorrow.
I fall asleep at some point. Nerves kept me up most of last night, and the relief about having my speech over with is relaxing.
When my eyes blink open, it’s dusk.
Gramps is talking to someone on the farmhouse’s old rotary phone when I walk inside.
My room is a mess, evidence of my hasty departure this morning strewn everywhere. For having exactly one outfit option, I did an impressive job emptying most of my closet.
I change back into my usual jeans and T-shirt before heading out to the barn for the evening chores. Once the horses are fed and watered, I return to the house to help Gramps prepare dinner.
In the middle of eating, my phone begins to buzz.
Without looking at the screen, I know what the messages are going to be about. Much like the senior trip, the graduation night party is a Landry High legend. Only the graduates are allowed to attend, meaning there’s just one chance to.
Since I ended up attending both the senior trip and prom—the two other rites of passage—I know Cassie is expecting me to go tonight.
There are several reasons I’m not sure if I should. I ended up being the only senior listed without a college in the graduation program. I’m also not sure what people made of my speech. And the main reason: seeing Caleb one final time before he leaves will be more than a little bittersweet.
Cassie ends up deciding for me. A long series of honks sounds outside as I’m washing the dishes. I know it’s her even before I pull aside the curtain that covers the window.
“Go celebrate, Lennie,” Gramps tells me, taking the plate I was washing. “I promise not to throw a rager while you’re gone.”
I roll my eyes as I head to the door to let Cassie in.
“Is that not what they’re called?” he calls after me.
I’m grinning as I open the door. “Get in, we’re—” Cassie stops talking. “What are you wearing?”
I glance down at my rattiest jeans. My navy sweatshirt has a smear of horse slobber across the chest. And there’s a dollop of dish soap on my sleeve.
“Clothes?” I offer unhelpfully.
Cassie lets out an exasperated sigh, but her lips quirk as she steps over the threshold. “Howdy, Earl!” she calls as she passes the kitchen and heads upstairs.
She’s never been inside the farmhouse before, but doesn’t have any trouble navigating her way into my bedroom. I follow, intrigued by what she thinks she’s going to conjure up from my closet. All she’s going to find is clean versions of what I’m wearing.
Based on the perplexed look on her face when I enter my bedroom, she’s thinking the same. “No offense, but—”
“Funny how people only sayno offenseright before they’re about to offend you.”
Cassie laughs. “Fair. But is this yourwholewardrobe?Allof it?” She waves at my closet.
“Yeah. My clothing allowance is going toward feeding the horses, at the moment.”
Cassie pauses flipping through my hangers and whirls around. “Lennon, I didn’t mean—”
