Page 75 of Leaving the Station
He lifted the collar of his T-shirt to wipe his face. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” I told him, walking over to check on the corpse plant.
“You know,” Randall said, “you have a knack for this.”
I turned to him. He was sweeping the mess we’d made from repotting the tree.
“Yeah?”
He nodded. “I can tell you care about the plants.”
Of courseI cared about the plants; I cared for their well-being more than my own.
All I said was, “I do.”
“I’m teaching a botany lab next semester, if you wanted to take it,” he said as he shook out the tarp.
It was when he said that, when he mentioned a future academic season, that I knew once and for all that I wasn’t cut out for college. That I didn’t have what it took to sit through another lecture or take another test.
If I could’ve taken that one lab, I would’ve. Spending time with plants and Randall for college credit seemed... not terrible.
But I couldn’tjusttake that class.
“That sounds nice,” I told him. “I don’t know if it’ll fit in my schedule, though.”
“No pressure.” He dusted himself off. “Just think about it.”
I nodded. Of course, Ihadthought about it, about what it would be like to be Zoe the botanist.
“I will,” I promised.
“Good,” he said. “I’ve really loved having you here.”
He left me in the conservatory, and I tried not to cry into theAmorphophallus.
I checked my phone then, and there was a message waiting for me. The only person who texted me with any regularity was Alden, so I was about to swipe it away, but it wasn’t from him.
It was from Autumn.
Autumn:this is kind of random
but i was wondering if you were on campus ?
if you are I’d love to talk !
Wednesday, 12 p.m., Crossing into MT
I feel better after downing a bottle of water and stretching my legs somewhere in the westernmost part of North Dakota.
It took nearly eight hours to pass through the state, and in that time, everything has changed. I found out Oakley’s going back to the Church. She found out I’m not going back to college. We made out.
The last one was the most revelatory.
After I cool off and head back to her sleeper car, Oakley and I finish our planning session for Aya’s party.
“I love that we’re doing this for her,” she says. “It’s like a grand gesture.”
“Except it’s not romantic,” I say.
