What Happens Now(20)

Kendall smiled, like I’d asked the right question, then searched my face. For what, I wasn’t sure. Then she turned back to the view and finally said, “I’m spending the first semester of next year in Europe.”

I laughed hard. But she gave me a look.

“Oh,” I said. “You’re not kidding.”

“It’s called the Movable School,” added Kendall. “It’s just for girls. We’re going to England, France, and Italy. I’ll get full course credit, but the classes aren’t traditional. Everything’s a hands-on experience. And I’ll get to write. I’ve already set up a blog where I’m going to post travel pieces and photos.”

I examined her face. “You’re really not kidding.”

She took a sip of beer, swallowed hard. “It’s been set for a while, but I didn’t know how to tell you. And I couldn’t tell anyone else before I told you. So now I’m telling you.”

Kendall had never said anything about wanting to spend a semester away. In Europe. I wasn’t sure what was worse: the fact of her being gone, or that she’d kept all these plans to herself.

“You know how hard school has been for me,” she said, wiping her mouth. Staring out at the lights scattered in front of us like ships in their own ocean. “This is my chance to save this whole four-year sentence and turn it into something meaningful.”

“You’re going to have a blast,” I said. Which was true. We were still playing Truth, right?

“You’re not upset?”

“I’m excited for you.” Another truth.

I asked Kendall more about the Movable School. How many students would be in the program, where exactly they were going, and all the other things I knew I was supposed to ask. Things I really, honestly, did want to know. (Truth.)

She’d be leaving at the end of August.

“Some seriously exciting stuff might happen to you with this,” I said in response to all the details. “New people, new experiences. You can even be a new you, if you want, because you won’t be here.”

“That’s the idea,” she mused, staring off so far, it could have been halfway to London already. “Jealous?”

“Green-eyed raging monster.”

She nodded. We were quiet for a long time. Was this still the silence of knowing how to be with each other?

“Truth,” said Kendall finally.

“It’s a bitch,” I said.

On the way back into town, I stopped to get gas. I couldn’t afford to fill up Richard’s car completely, but I thought half a tank would matter. Kendall waited in the car, air drumming to the radio as I operated the pump. My hand was starting to ache from squeezing the nozzle when I noticed two people rummaging in the dumpster nearby. One was so tall, he could just bend over at the waist and his head disappeared into the dumpster. He pulled out a big cardboard box.

“Nice,” said the girl he was with, and this is when I realized these people were Max and Eliza. Eliza already had some stuff at her feet: Styrofoam, two or three boxes. A white vintage SUV sat nearby with the back open.

When I was done with the pump, I leaned into Kendall’s window.

“Those are Camden Armstrong’s friends over there. Should I go say hi?”

“Duh,” she said.

So I walked over. Max was now loading the boxes and Styrofoam into the back of the car. It was Eliza who saw me first.

“Satina Galt!” she said.

“Hi.”

“We go to this gas station for dumpster hauls because nobody ever comes here. What’s your excuse?”

“Joyride up to the overlook.”

“Ah. Nice night for it.”

“What’s the haul for?”

“Arts and crafts,” she said. She was wearing a black skirt, a white T-shirt with the collar hacked off, and silver gladiator-style sandals. Her hair hung straight, partially in her face, and it seemed intentional. She stepped closer to look at me, at my standard-issue cutoff jean shorts and T-shirt, my purple boots. “Max tells me you’re hooking him up with some yarn. Does Camden know you have that capability?”

She made it sound like I ran some kind of underworld knitting circle.

“I don’t really know Camden. Just from the lake.”

“Are you coming to his party?”

I stared at her blankly.

“You should come,” said Eliza. “It’s the first party he’s ever thrown. He’s worried nobody will show up.”

I’d never been to a party at an unfamiliar house before. But, hell. If Kendall could go to Europe, I could go to a party full of Dashwood kids.

“I’ll show up,” I heard myself saying.

“Good! It’s on Saturday. Do you know where the barn is?” She said it like a proper noun. The Barn.

“I thought he lived in a church.”

Eliza shook her head and rolled her eyes, as if she’d heard this before. “Nope. It’s a barn.” She walked back to the truck and I heard a ripping noise. She came back with a trapezoid of cardboard and a highlighter pen, writing an address on it as she walked.

“Here,” she said, pushing it at me. “Bring friends.”

Max was getting in the SUV now so she climbed in on the passenger side. I felt hopelessly inarticulate around Eliza. I wanted to change that.