Page 7 of Road Trip

“Luke!” Mrs. Mercer exclaimed again, and then, “Jacob!”

Jacob sat back down, still scowling. “You’re such a dick!”

Sometimes I thought it would have been awesome to have a little brother, just so I wasn’t home alone so much. Other times, like this one, I was glad I didn’t.

The rest of breakfast went more smoothly, but I was itching to get out of here, to get on the road, to have a summer with just me and Jacob and leave everything else, and everyone else, behind. I never wanted to step foot in Cape Charles again. In California, I’d start over. Nobody who knew me here would even recognize me in California, like, I dunno, I’d start to shed my skin the moment Jacob and I got in the car, and by the time we got to the West Coast, it’d all be gone, revealing someone new underneath.

Someone who was going places.

Someone who looked forward, not back.

Someone whose chest wasn’t crushed under the pressure ofhis loneliness every time he thought about his best friend going away to college without him.

Someone who was into guys and not afraid to admit it.

Someone who wasn’t a pathetic loser.

“So,” Mr. Mercer said. “It’s a long way to California. I want you boys to stay safe. Drive to the road conditions, no speeding, and take lots of breaks. If you’re tired, pull over for a nap.”

“Dad, we’ve been on trips before,” Jacob said.

“Not long ones,” Mr. Mercer said. His brows tugged together, pinching the skin above his nose. “Just be aware of fatigue, okay? Take your time and don’t push yourselves. That’s all I’m saying.”

Jacob and I both nodded seriously because Mr. Mercer was bringing that concentrated Dad energy to the table, and if we grinned or goofed off during this Serious Moment where he was imparting his wisdom, he’d probably make us sit through it all over again.

“And you check in every day,” Mr. Mercer said.

We both nodded again.

“Just…” Mr. Mercer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just besensible, please.”

The word held a whole lot of worry. Part of it made me bridle—like, what thefuck, come on, he didn’t have to say it like we were dumbass kids who were going to fuck up the second we were gone—but mostly it was just uncomfortable. Mr. Mercer wasn’t my dad, but sometimes he talked like he was, as though he had three sons instead of two, and it made my stomach swoop in an uncomfortable way because I didn’t know how I was supposed to react.

That was the story of my life to this point, actually. I’d never figured out how to act around other people, so pretty much everyone just thought I was an asshole. Which, okay, yeah, Iwasan asshole but it was honestly accidental. I didn’t ever remember being at a crossroads and making the conscious choice thatantisocialassholewas better thanawkward weirdo, but somewhere along the way I’d committed to it, I guess, and now here I was.

“We will, Dad,” Jacob said, hitting exactly the right sincere tone to make the lines in his dad’s expression soften just a bit. Then Jacob looked at me and smiled that wide, easy smile of his, the one he didn’t even know was a total killer, and my stomach did a loop the loop. “We’ll be fine, right, Matt?”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice catching in my suddenly dry throat. “We’ll be fine.”

It was lucky I wasn’t driving yet because Mr. Mercer would not approve of the way I didn’t have my eyes on the road. As we backed out of the Mercers’ driveway onto the street, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the grip Jacob had on the steering wheel. His fingers, his knuckles, the way the sunlight caught on the usually invisible hairs on his forearms and turned them gold.

“You know what would be funny?” he asked as he watched the backup camera’s screen. “If I hit that trash can. Can you imagine the look on my dad’s face?”

“Dude,” I said. “Don’t hit the trash can. The trip would be offsofucking fast.”

He laughed, and I tried to laugh too and pretend I didn’t feel an itch under my skin. Like, we were so close to getting out of Cape Charles. Why would he fucking jinx us by saying that dumb shit about the trash can? His parents were still right there, right by the driveway, watching us leave.

Luke and Charlie were there too. Charlie didn’t look bothered, but Luke’s nose was wrinkled the way it had been most of his life, whenever he thought that Jacob was leaving him out of something fun. Little brother syndrome or something. They got on well enough now, but a few years ago Jacob had spent a lot of time swatting Luke away like a buzzing insect.

“You ready for this?” Jacob asked me with a grin.

“Yeah,” I said. “Soready. But I’m not kidding, dude. Watch where you’re going.”

“You sound like mydad.” But Jacob kept his eyes on the screen, and we backed the rest of the way out of the driveway without hitting the trash can. He pushed the button to put the window down. “See ya, Luke and Charlie! Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad! We’ll call you when we need bail money in Vegas!”

Then, cackling like a fucking maniac, he waved, then put the car into Drive and we headed out of the street, out of the neighborhood, out of the town, and into the rest of our lives.

And from now on, I was going to be a whole new person.

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