I don’t make jokes like this lightly, but it seemed like my sister needed an organ transplant or something. It really did.
Even our cousin currently living abroad in Vienna had posted.Grace is the star of our family!Audrey, who was therealstar of our family, had written (thanks, Audrey).Keep her safe and healthy! #SavingGrace.
And parents?I wondered.Anyone…? Anyone…?
How had they not caught wind of this? Dad didn’t have Instagram, and I guess Momreallyhad her nose to the grindstone today, but seriously? No one had texted or called with questions or concerns? Not extended family? Not the Cruzes? Not the Adlers? How had this not made it into The Moms’ group chat yet?!
You’re lucky, Grace,I thought as I tightened the fuel tank’s cap.You are so lucky.
From what I could see, my sister hadn’t liked any of the posts. She was either cleverly keeping a low profile on social media…or hadn’t scrolled through her feed at all. If she was really carpe diem–ing today, I’d say the latter. Something told me she had no idea this #SavingGrace movement existed.
I pulled out of the gas station and headed for the highway, but instead of taking the main road, I turned onto what Mom used to call the Roller Coaster Road when Grace and I were little. With so many hills, it wentup-down, up-down, up-downso many times and so quickly that we lost our stomachs over and over again. My sister, by the ride’s end, also lost herself to giggles.
Heart flipping, I sped up one hill, then plunged down its valley. My stomach swooped just like the old days with Mom and Grace.
Grace. We used to be close back then, so close that we’d called each other “twin” by choice, not to bait the other into rolling their eyes. Middle school reallyhadshifted things between us. I’d “spread my wings,” but Grace preferred the nest. Isa and Everett—all she needed was Isa and Everett.
I shifted in my seat and pressed the gas pedal to climb another mountain.Does Grace need me?I wondered. I knew she loved me. I mean, I was her brother. She was sort of obligated to love me.
But did she want me around?
I hadn’t been invited on today’s adventure. Even though Grace knew I’d skip school in half a heartbeat, she hadn’t asked me to join her. What did that say about our relationship?
I guess we’ll find out when I crash the party,I thought before having one of thoseHoly-Fuck-I’m-Driving!moments. The Subaru wasflyingover the Roller Coaster Road, whose speed limit was technically twenty-five miles per hour. And I was going…
Well, I didn’t even check the speedometer. Flashing red and blue lights caught my eye, and I glanced in the rearview mirror to see a police car tailing me—orchasingme, since he was speeding up by the second. “Wonderful,” I muttered, sirens rattling my eardrums.“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”
The Roller Coaster Road was so narrow that there was no shoulder to pull over on and stop for a conversation with the cop. The best I could do was ease on the brakes, give him a wave in the rearview mirror, and keep driving until we steered down the last slope and crossed the intersection to the Delaware River canal’s gravel parking lot. A few people were unloading bikes from their car racks; I didn’t like biking, but I suddenly wished I were them.
I put the Subaru in park and rolled down the window. A minute later, the policeman arrived. “Hello, Officer,” I said, not smiling but also sort of smiling? If that makes sense?
He skipped the pleasantries. “Do you know how fast you were driving?”
Uh, no,I swallowed hard.Unfortunately not.
But I didn’t want to confess to being a total space cadet, so I made my best guess. “Thirty-five miles per hour?”
“Funny,” he replied curtly. “Forty-seven.” He stared at me. “Are you aware of this road’s speed limit?”
“Twenty-five,” I answered, then admitted, “I accidentally zoned out for a little.”
The policeman whistled. “I’ll say, kid.”
He asked for my license and registration, and my knee began bouncing up and down as he retreated to his car to run them through the system.Please no points,I prayed. Accumulating them would increase my chances of getting my license revoked.Please don’t give me any points.
I’d have to keep tabs on the mail for the next couple weeks. My parents couldn’t intercept the ticket I was about to be issued. The last thing I needed was to lose my already rare driving privileges.
After what felt like a year, the officer returned…in a much better mood compared to pre–license and registration confiscation. He explained that he was letting me off with a minor ticket.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, confused. “I really appreciate it, and I apologize. I have a ton on my mind today.”
“I understand,” he said, nodding. “We all have those days.”
I nodded back, excited to get going.
The police officer returned my credentials, and just when it seemed like we were finished shooting the breeze, he said, “By the way, you wouldn’t happen to be related to…”
If you say Grace Barbour,I thought, gritting my teeth,I’mshreddingthat ticket.
