The Miles Between - Page 6

The dawning is slow but visible as her arched expectant eyebrows slowly fall. She sinks lower in the seat. We are just passing the infirmary when a muffled squeal erupts from Mira. “There he is!”

Aidan is approaching the infirmary doors with a bloodied handkerchief pressed to his nose when Mira stands up in the back seat and waves her entire body at him. He stops and stares over the kerchief, and I imagine he thinks his bloody nose is causing him to hallucinate.

“Unbelievable,” Seth whispers, hitting the brakes.

“No! Don’t stop,” I say. “Not him too!” But it is too late. He is already walking toward us, his eyes sweeping our extraordinary pink car. Mira throws open the rear door.

“We’re going for a ride. Get in.” He does and I am almost not surprised, even though Aidan is an annoying stickler for rules, because maybe today, some things are beyond his control too. He leans back, still pinching his nose.

“Whose car?” he asks.

“Des’s,” Seth answers. “Don’t drip on the seats!”

My car? Did I say that? But I do take note that he is looking out for my upholstery. “Seth, this isn’t—” Perhaps now is not the time.

“Isn’t what?”

“This isn’t . . . the time to be talking. Go!”

4

THE WIND RUFFLES MY HAIR. Surely this will do it. This will end my days at Hedgebrook. It’s

time. I find that I am . . . thinking too much about others, and that is not a wise thing to do. By the time we return today, the papers will probably already be written up. My parents will be glad for the excuse. I’ve always been a good girl. There now, be a good girl, Destiny. Mama’s good girl. No more tears. Let me see you smile. Give Mama a nice good-bye.

There are so many different ways of being good. It’s all about perspective.

Seth hoots and swerves onto the shoulder, causing a plume of dust to trail behind us. He slows to a stop. “Sweet car, Des.”

“When did you get it?” Mira asks.

“Just today.”

“It’s against the rules, you know?” Aidan says. “Students aren’t allowed to keep cars on campus.”

“It’s not staying, Aidan, so don’t worry about your precious rules,” I tell him.

He sits up defensively. “Do I look worried about rules? If I was worried about rules I wouldn’t be sitting here right now, would I?”

“Why are you here?” Seth asks.

“I needed fresh air.”

“Teased about your nose again?” Mira asks with genuine concern because there is nothing covert about Mira.

Aidan glares at her. I am surprised. I thought Aidan was used to being the resident geek. He almost seems like he works hard to live up to it, even wearing a tie with his uniform on Fridays, when it is not required.

“It’s stopped bleeding,” I say. “You can toss the hanky.” He folds it, bloody splotches inward, and tucks it into his pocket.

“Now what?” Seth asks, looking through the steering wheel and checking out the gauges. “Should we go back?”

“Goodness, no!” Mira says, standing up on the rear seat and throwing her hands over her head. We are all startled and turn to look at her. She sheepishly shrugs and sits back down. “Sorry. I mean, no,” she whispers.

“She’s right,” Aidan says. “We all have guaranteed trash duty at this point. We might as well make it worth it. And I need a day off. If I were president, I would make more vacation time mandatory. Do you know that in other countries where vacation time is mandatory, they have higher productivity levels? It’s just a matter of—”

“We got it, Pres.” I am in no mood for one of Aidan’s long lectures. It is enough to know I have another unexpected dissident. Their breakfast manners gave no hint.

“And since I already have trash duty, I may as well do something that I really deserve it for,” Seth adds.

Tags: Mary E. Pearson
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