Dreamology(56)

“Maybe I don’t care,” Sophie huffs.

I roll my eyes and turn to Max. “Sophie hates Jerry because he ate her favorite Barbie doll when we were little,” I say. “And she’s never forgiven him.”

“Why would I forgive a slobbery beast with no self-control or sense of decency?” Sophie puts a hand on her hip. “One minute Barbie had a head and face; the next we were monitoring his bowel movements for signs of blond hair to make sure it had passed.” She shudders.

“Watch what you say about Jer-Bear,” I hear someone say, and I turned to find Oliver on the sidewalk, astride his Segway like a modern knight.

“And what is going on here exactly?” Sophie asks. “Seventeen going on seventy? My nana has one of those. Hers is hot pink. You guys could take them on your dates together.”

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” Oliver says. “Which you will never get to do, because with that attitude you’re never going to ride it.”

Sophie gasps as though she has just been slapped with a glove, and I take the opportunity to interrupt.

“Okay, guys, Max and I actually had a plan today.” I turn to him, suddenly nervous. “Just to confirm, that is why you’re here, isn’t it?” I ask. “The road trip?”

Max gets up and walks over to me, looking confused. “Of course that’s why I’m here. I told you I would be, didn’t I?”

I can’t help but relax, breathing a sigh of relief, and Max squeezes my shoulder, which makes me the opposite of relaxed all over again.

“Road trip!” Oliver exclaims, rubbing his hands together. “Where are we going?”

“We,” Max says, pointing from himself to Sophie to me, “are going to Maine. I have no idea where you are going.”

I expect Oliver to reply with something witty, something to save face. But instead he does something I’ve never seen him do before. He lets his guard down, and he actually looks hurt as he turns back to remount his Segway. “Oh,” he says. “Okay.”

“You know what?” I announce. “I think we have room for one more.”

“We do?” Max asks, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“We do,” I say, turning to give him a look.

“Whatever,” Max mutters. “As long as I’m driving.”

It turns out Max Wolfe is a big fan of Motown, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t take me by surprise. But as we cruise up I-95 toward Maine, I realize it makes a bit of sense. Like Max, Motown is classic. It’s a little bit reserved, but it still knows how to have a good time.

“I didn’t know you liked this kind of stuff,” I say.

“It’s fun to drive to,” Max explains. He seems really relaxed today. We’re about forty minutes outside the city, and the leaves are positively on fire. Lemon yellow, fire-engine red, and a color of orange reserved for only the cheapest orange soda you can find.

“I wish they stayed this way all year long,” I say wistfully.

“Me too,” Max agrees. “But then we wouldn’t have snow . . . or summer.”

“You’re right,” I say, and let my head fall back against the seat as I listen to Sophie and Oliver bickering behind us.

“I’m just saying, no offense, but I think I have a solid chance of replacing you as best friend by the end of the school year,” Oliver says. “I mean, how long have you known Alice anyway?”

“Oh, only like, my entire life,” Sophie replies. “But what’s that compared to knowing her for not even two months?”

“I’m sensing quite a bit of hostility from you right now, Sophie, and I gotta tell you I’m sort of into it,” Oliver says. “But I’m still going to need more evidence of friendship.”

“Alice and I have an old inside joke where we pretend we have clones of each other that we hang out with when the other isn’t around, because that’s how much we miss each other when we aren’t together. Can you beat that?” Sophie asks.

“Do you know that a woman in England just cloned her dachshund? It’s true. I read about it,” I call back to them.

“You would read something like that,” Max pipes in. He was so intent on the road, I hadn’t even realized he was listening.

“I’d like to clone both you ladies,” Oliver calls out.

“In your dreams,” Sophie shoots back. Then she pauses for a second, thinking. “I guess that phrase holds a little more meaning in this crowd.”

“Well, I’ve known Alice longer than either of you, so beat that,” Max says. And the car falls awkwardly silent.

“Yeah, but only in a weird parallel dream universe, so I’m not sure that counts,” Sophie says.

“Speaking of parallel universe, did you just see that sign?” Max says quietly to me. “Rio de Janeiro, twenty-two miles.”

“That’s not possible,” I say. “There’s no Rio in Maine.”

“I know,” Max says, looking at me pointedly. “That’s the point. We’re probably going to get totally lost because our minds are dreaming up alternate road signs.”

But I’m thinking about something else. “So that time in the cafeteria, when I asked you about the Amazon . . . you remembered that, right?”