Chapter 27
WHEN THE WEEKEND HITS, my entire family piles into the car for a momentous occasion. On the way to the bank, an argument breaks out the second Julie connects her phone to the car’s Bluetooth. When Taylor Swift’s Folklore album begins to play, Jillian all but jumps through the window into oncoming traffic.
“Stop trying to push your Swiftie agenda onto the rest of us,” she says, pouting, her arms crossed.
“If you stopped being a big suck and actually listened, maybe you’d like it,” Julie fires back.
Dad drives, Mom sits in the passenger seat. They don’t say a word. They just keep glancing at each other and smiling.
I stare out the window, watching the town roll past, thinking of Wilson and everything I have planned to make things right with him.
On a day like today, where there is so much excitement in the air, his absence feels glaringly obvious. It’s, like, even happiness feels dull without him here to feel it, too. Which is a very strange feeling—something I’ve never felt before, this deep desire to share a moment with someone else.
I haven’t spoken to him since our last conversation. Too full of nerves to even consider confronting him, I gave my past two shifts at Monte’s away. Plus, I sort of needed a moment to stay at home with my sisters. After losing them for a few days, I needed that permanence—that reminder that they won’t disappear the second I walk out the front door.
But Wilson has been on my mind every day. All I want to do is text him, call him, see him. I remind myself that the time is coming. Tonight we’ll be back on track.
I don’t contemplate what will happen if this goes wrong.
When we reach the bank, I leave my sisters to argue in the car. I’ve come to the realization that not every argument means an ending is near. Especially between family. I hear Wilson’s voice again: That’s what family does, they come around .
My dad and I walk into the bank, and a nice older man helps us. Yesterday, my paycheck from Monte’s and The Rundown hit my account. When I saw the total of my savings account finally pass twenty-five hundred dollars, there was only one way to celebrate.
The man hands me the bank draft with a smile. “Anything specific you’re spending this on?”
My dad squeezes my shoulder and beats me to the answer. “My daughter’s buying her first car.”
“Wow! That’s a big accomplishment. Congratulations,” the man says.
I’m nothing short of radiant. “Thank you.”
We pile back into the car to find that Julie has switched over to playing Reputation. She’s dancing in the back seat. In fact, they’re both dancing. I take my seat in the third row and say, “What did I miss?”
Julie looks at me over her shoulder. “Jill likes Reputation .”
“You should’ve played this album from the get-go,” she says. “This is way more my speed.”
For the rest of the drive, Julie gives Jillian an in-depth explanation of every song, the meaning behind every lyric, and a detailed history of the people who inspired it. When my dad pulls into the Nissan dealership, the five of us walk inside together.
It takes an hour to fill out the paperwork and a good fifteen minutes for my dad to haggle the price down by a couple hundred. When all is said and done, I hand the salesman my bank draft, my parents pitch in the remaining amount, and we wait while the car is being washed.
“Stop growing up so fast,” Julie says, her eyes beginning to water.
“Is there anything that won’t make you cry?” Jill teases.
Then the employee hands me the keys to my car. I stare at them in disbelief. Being a frog at Monte’s, working at The Rundown , finally being repromoted to waitress—all these moments flash through my head. All the moments that have led me here, made this possible.
The five of us run outside to the parking lot.
My shiny white hatchback sits parked in the first row. There’s a pink bow tied on each side mirror, and a giant one placed on the hood. Julie grabs my left hand. Jill grabs my right one. They squeeze tightly. I squeeze right back.
“Shotgun!” Jill takes off across the parking lot. I unlock the door, and she slides into the passenger seat.
“Guess I’m in the back,” Julie grumbles, sulking over to the car.
My parents sling their arms around me. “We’re so proud of you,” Mom says, pressing her face into mine.
“Your hard work paid off, kiddo,” Dad says.
“Thanks, guys,” I say.
Before I can run over and join my sisters, my dad gives me the ultimate Dad Talk. “Drive the speed limit,” he warns. “At a stop sign, three seconds minimum. When the light turns yellow, you slow down. And when Jill tells you to push it and run the light, what do you do?”
“Ignore her,” I answer.
He winks. “You got it.”
When I get into the car, Julie and Jillian are already arguing over who gets to control the aux cord. Since my budget was pretty tight, I couldn’t afford a newer model, which has Bluetooth. Julie surprised me this morning with the cord.
“Driver gets aux,” I interrupt, plugging my phone in and searching Suzy’s Spotify profile. I see that a few hours ago she published a new playlist titled Road Tripping. It makes me smile, and I can’t wait to get home and show her.
While the music fills the car, I adjust my seat, make sure everyone has their seatbelt on, then look both ways before pulling out of the parking spot—
“Wait!” Jill screams. I slam on the breaks. We all jerk forward, then back, our heads slamming into the headrest.
I glare at her. “What was that for?”
“Just want to make sure no older women are around for you to hit.”
In the back seat, Julie snickers.
“For the last time,” I say, pressing down on the gas and easing out of the spot, “I never hit Mrs. Clemens. I gently nudged her.”
To both their surprise, I manage to drive us home without harming any elderly people.