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GPS reroutes, taking me on a slight detour toward a town called McKinley—an estimated five minutes away.
More cars appear on the road as I enter the town limits. A water tower overlooks the tiny valley town, warring for height with the mountains looming on each side of what appears to be the main strip, appropriately named Main Street.
I turn into the Sunoco on the corner, pulling up near the first empty pump I spot, my car grinding to a jolting stop. Wincing, I shake my head. I don’t really know cars, but something tells me I’m not going to get much farther with this thing.
The air is surprisingly warm when I turn off my engine and climb out. Being so far north, I thought it would be cooler in the summer, but aside from the shade, it doesn’t feel much different here in Vermont versus back home in Indiana.
Not home anymore,I remind myself.
Seeing as I only have cash, I have to go inside to pay for gas.
There’s a few people in the small convenience store, and I find myself peeking a look at each one. No, Nolan doesn’t live in this town—I don’t think. His business is a little over a half hour away from here. Where he actuallylives…I don’t know.
But again—that’s a problem for Future Skyler.
I still can’t help but feel nervous now that I’m finally here.
All the doubts I’ve shoved back in my efforts to make this possible are now popping forth one at a time, faster and faster, until it’s too much to keep up with—too much to drown out.
“Can I help you?”
Blinking, I look up to find I’m next in line, so I shake off the thoughts and numbly tell the guy what pump I’m on and hand him a twenty dollar bill, carefully avoiding his curious gaze. I assume they don’t get a lot of tourists here. Or maybe it’s just because of how cheap I’m being. But it’s all I’m willing to spend right now.
Back outside, I quickly pump what I paid for.
A glance at the time shows it’s a little after 12:30, and my stomach rumbles as if on cue.
Running through what I have left in my wallet, I decide to see if there’s a McDonald’s or something around.
But no such luck as the closest fast food chain is an hour away according to Google Maps.
Frowning, I search nearby restaurants—anything—debating if maybe I should just resort to going back in the convenience store for some snacks to get through.
A nearby diner pops up first, as well as what looks to be a bar named Lola’s. Both are on this street, just a little way’s up, so I tap on the directions for the diner, and once the GPS kicks on, and I’ve got the car started, I slowly roll my way back onto Main Street.
I pass through a couple lights, only having to stop for one.
There’s no parking lot from what it looks like when I spot the diner up ahead on my left. There’s no sign outside, save for big, black bold letters spelling RESTAURANT across the brick siding.
Turning onto the narrow side-street a building down from the diner, I slow to a crawl along the curb. A glance around shows no meters, and no signs telling me I can’t park here, so I figure I’m safe. It’s not like I plan to be here long. In and out, and I’ll…make a game plan or something. With only a couple weeks left before my phone bill is due, I’ll need to make some big decisions about where I go from here now that I’m, well, here.
In Vermont.
He’s so close,I think, my chest aching at the thought, my pulse speeding up, my stomach fluttering with what feels like a thousand hummingbirds flitting around.
I kind of want to throw up.
Locking my car, I stuff my keys in my jeans pocket, and start making my way back toward where I passed the restaurant. My ratty black Chuck’s I found at a thrift shop are so worn down, I can feel rocks slipping into the soles from where the asphalt chipped off in spots.
Having thought it’d be a little cooler up here, I had pulled on a long-sleeved, oversized gray Henley I’d also found thrifting. It’s threadbare at this point, and a little too small on me, seeing as I bought this when I first moved out of my parents’.
But I wanted to save my nicer stuff for once I got settled.
I round the corner—asphalt giving way to smooth concrete. The diner is just up ahead, one building down.
A car drives by, windows open, music blasting. The bass vibrates over my skin, and I clench my fists at my sides, leveling my gaze down at the ground with intent focus.
Please, please don’t be busy,I silently beg the universe. I doubt it will be, seeing as how quiet and quaint this town seems to be. Save for that car, it’s almost eerie how empty it is. Like a ghost town.
