“Not really,” I admit.
Matt heads off to find his mom, and I rush to the guest room—I’m staying in here tonight instead of in Audrey’s room, so I won’t disturb her—and quickly change into jeans, then throw a light sweater over my red shirt. Then I remove the sweater and the red shirt, and put on a purple T-shirt with ruffle embellishments instead. It’s one I borrowed from Audrey that, according to her, “pimps my eyes.” I apply lip gloss, let down my hair, put the sweater back on, and meet Matt downstairs.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hi,” I say back.
“You look good,” he says, turning toward the front door.
“Thanks,” I say quietly, following him outside into the warm fall evening.
I climb into the passenger seat of his car. It feels and smells familiar, thanks to our ride from Kansas City. Matt starts the engine and plugs in his iPhone—or maybe it’s Audrey’s—then quickly turns down the dial from full blast to normal. I roll down my window halfway to let the fresh air into my lungs. Matt rolls his down, too.
My favorite song ever begins as Matt pulls away from the curb. A breeze sends a waft of Matt’s shampoo my way, and that combined with the fresh scent of the fall air that still wants to be summer makes me want to inhale and hold my breath until I might die if I don’t let it out. I look at Matt’s profile again and he must feel my gaze because he smiles even though his eyes are still on the road.
The perfectness of the moment makes me think of Audrey and all the moments like this that she won’t have.
It makes me mad at Mason, until I realize that it’s not his fault.
It’s the program’s.
“What are you thinking about?” Matt asks.
Once again, I consider breaking my vows and Mason’s trust and telling Matt about the Revive program. But then I remember Mason’s uneasy feeling; I remember the strange call to Sydney, and the way that God wanted to move up the tests. Something is going on, and telling our secrets definitely won’t help the situation.
“Nothing,” I say. “I just love this song.”
We pull into a public lot and Matt kills the engine.
“It’s good that you brought a sweater,” he says. “It might get breezy where we’re going.”
“I came prepared,” I say.
“Let’s go,” Matt says.
Without thinking too much about it, I join hands with Matt as we set off through the lot, and then across a wide street. There are trees, a path, and water.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing.
“The Missouri River,” Matt says. “We’re going across.”
Deciding to let go of my worries for the time being, I smile as we head toward a walking bridge that spans the river. Even at night, I can see clearly the massive pillars jutting out of the water and high into the sky, with webs of cables stretching down from their tops to support the river walk’s weight. From the bridge, I can see both the twinkling lights of downtown Omaha and the bright stars above. It’s beautiful.
“Pretty cool, right?” Matt asks.
“Yes!” I say enthusiastically. “Thanks for bringing me here. I’ve never done anything like this.”
“Really?” Matt asks. “There aren’t any rivers where you lived before? Where was it again?”
Everywhere, I want to say, but don’t.
“Frozen Hills, Michigan.”
“Sounds cold.”
“It was.”