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“No, go straight,” Jordy argues.
Caleb shoots me a questioning glance. His eyes wander from me to the rearview mirror with Jordy’s reflection.
“Turn left. Trust me, it’s a shortcut.”
“I don’t know—”
“Just go left!”
“Okay, okay. I’ll go left,” he says.
As soon as the car turns, I sink back into the seat and let out a slow exhale. I did it. I successfully avoided Lincoln St. One day down, the rest of the semester to go.
“Well, this is the longest shortcut I’ve ever been on,” Jordy says with a flat voice.
He might not like it, but that’s fine. Caleb keeps driving my direction and doesn’t ask any questions. That’s all that matters.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fumble, wiggling my hand underneath the lap belt to reach it. I yank it out, bringing it to my ear without registering who’s calling.
“Hello,” I say.
“Becca, are you okay?” Mom asks. Worry consumes her wavering and breathless words.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Why?”
“The school called. They told me you jumped out of the back of a bus. Why in the world would you do something like that?” she asks.
Mom’s voice is loud. I can sense Caleb and Jordy’s eyes like daggers digging into me. I rub my forehead, sinking lower. For some reason, I didn’t make the connection that Mom would find out this fast. But now that I think about it, it would be pretty neglectful of the school if they didn’t call.
There is no reasonable excuse I can give her to validate my behavior. It’s game over. Still, I decide to try and word vomit my way out of it. “I just really needed some air, and she wouldn’t let me off. So, my only option was to jump out of the bus.”
“Just tell me where you are, and I’ll come get you. We can–”
“No, I promise I’m fine. I’m actually on my way to school now, so you don’t have to worry.” I might as well be pleading for my freedom right now. If I give her the chance to swoop in, she’ll drive me straight to the next therapist on her list, demanding a cure.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Caleb open his mouth like he’s about to say something, but he bites his lower lip instead.
“Did you drive?” Mom asks with a mix of shock and excitement.
“No. Caleb and his little brother were on their way to school and saw me walking.”
Mom is quiet for a moment, digesting everything I’ve told her. Then, she says, “You know, he has such good manners. I wonder if he has a girlfriend.”
My eyes catapult out of my head. “Mom!”
Now is absolutely not the time for her to be playing matchmaker. Especially not with Caleb. We’ve known each other for the past decade and barely tolerate each other at best.
My jacket is suddenly way too warm, and my face burns. “Bye, Mom,” I say, pressing the end button without waiting for her to echo my farewell.
I can’t bring myself to look over at Caleb. I take my hood and pull it over my head to hide my shame, hoping it’ll help me disappear.
There’s an awkward pause that follows until he finally clears his throat. “So . . . you jumped out of a bus?”
I wasn’t quite sure what I was expecting him to say, but I wished he’d say nothing. “Just drive,” I say, pulling at the drawstrings on my hoodie.
His hand hovers over the lock button on the inside of the door. It clicks.
“Really?” I snap.
