The Last House on the Street(18)

“I thought you’d work in the pharmacy with your dad this summer like you usually do.”

“This is more important,” I said.

“Man,” he said, his smile uncertain. “You’re somethin’ else, Ellie. If that’s what you want to do, then I think you should do it. Just save your strength for going out after work.”

I looked down at Reverend Gregory A. Filburn’s official-looking signature on his letter. I had to be straight with Reed. “I’m not sure I’ll have time, Reed,” I said. “There’s a lot I don’t know yet but I think that once you’re committed to the program, it’s a twenty-four-hour-a-day deal. They’ll put me—all the students—they’ll put us up in the neighborhoods where we’re canvassing.”

“Seriously?” he asked. “In hotels or…?”

“People’s homes,” I said.

His eyes widened. “Your parents will let you do this?”

“I’m twenty. I really think the decision is mine.”

“Twenty isn’t twenty-one.”

The waiter picked that minute to show up at our table and we both ordered lamb. Once he left, Reed spoke again.

“I didn’t know you were so passionate about civil rights,” he said. “I mean, I know your aunt Carol could get you stirred up, and I know you were really upset over those protests in Chapel Hill last year, but this is really extreme, Ellie. Think about what happened to those people who marched from Selma to Montgomery last month. They were beaten and some were killed, and—”

“That was the Deep South,” I said, then added firmly, “I want to do this, Reed.”

He studied me with his sky-blue eyes. “Will I ever get to see you?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

“Do you care if I ever get to see you?” For a moment, the question hung in the air between us.

“Of course I do,” I said. “But this might have to be a summer apart for us.”

He leaned back from the table. “Well, I’d be lying if I said I’m happy about it, especially not with those living arrangements. I hope you’ll reconsider.”

The waiter brought our meals, then, and I slipped the envelope to the floor, resting it against my purse. We ate mostly in silence. My mind was a million miles away.

“I hope your parents won’t let you do it,” he said, after we’d been eating for a while.

I frowned at him. “Thanks a lot,” I said sarcastically. “This is something I really want to do. I wish you’d give me some support on it.”

Reed sighed. Looked down at the half-eaten lamb chop on his plate. “I think I’m in this relationship a lot deeper than you are,” he said finally. “If our roles were reversed, I couldn’t imagine leaving you for the whole summer. I couldn’t handle being apart that long.”

I set down my fork again. There was no way I could eat and have this conversation. “I care about you,” I said, “but … maybe you’re right. I want more than just a relationship in my life, Reed. I need something more. Something bigger.”

He stared at me. “What can I say to change your mind?”

I shook my head without saying a word.

“So … are we breaking up here?” he asked.

My body tensed. I was used to Reed being a part of my life. Selfishly, I still wanted him in it. Before I could think of what to say, he continued.

“How do you expect me to spend my summer?” he asked. “Stay home every night? Every weekend?”

“I think you should do what you want,” I said finally. “Go out with other girls.” I could barely say those words. I hated the thought of him being with another girl. That told me something. I did love him, but not so much that I’d give up my plan.

“Fine,” he said, the word flat as it came out of his mouth.

Neither of us finished our meal, and we passed on dessert. He didn’t take my hand as we left the restaurant, and the truth was, I wasn’t thinking about him. About us. I was thinking about how I would tell my parents about SCOPE.



* * *



If Reed had had the means to get back to Round Hill on his own that night, I felt certain he would leave, but we were stuck with our original plan. He’d have to stay in the dorm. I managed to slip him into the room I shared with Brenda. It wasn’t exactly a romantic setting, and that was just as well. For the first time, I noticed how our room smelled—like hair spray and shampoo and old sheets. I hadn’t washed the sheets on my bed in well over a week; I hadn’t known I’d be having company. Reed wouldn’t be able to use the bathroom at the end of the hall, so I had to empty a bottle of mouthwash so he could pee in it, and we had to speak quietly because the dorm door was paper thin.

“I think, given how we’re both feeling right now, I’ll sleep in Brenda’s bed,” he said.

I was relieved. We’d never spent a whole night together. Even during those occasional weekends at the beach, Brenda and I would share a room, and Reed and Garner would share another. Tonight was not the night for us to sleep together.

A few minutes after I’d gotten into my own bed and turned out my lamp, Reed spoke from the other side of the room. “I love you, Ellie,” he said.