Chapter 37
Everett
Grace and I swiftly made it out of the city—being quite literally under the highway helped—but there was no way to outwit the traffic that soon greeted us. It was a little after four thirty.
“Hey, Grace…,” I said when she reached across the center console for my hand. She casually threaded our fingers together. It sent shock waves up my arm. “I’m going to talk to my mom when I get home.”
“About what?” she asked. “Your Phillie Phanatic day?”
“Oh, obviously,” I said as she eased up on the brakes a bit. The Subaru moved all of five feet forward. “She’ll want every last detail.” I closed my eyes, remembering our phone call at the art museum.I want you to enjoy the rest of your visit, but I think later we should rediscuss…
“Ev?” Grace prompted, sensing there was more.
“We’re going to talk about me going on a new antidepressant,” I said. “My therapist keeps recommending it, and even though I filled the prescription, I keep saying no.”
Grace inched the Subaru forward again. Her mouth twisted. Unlike Isa, who always knew when to be a listener, Grace sometimes had to fight to keep her thoughts to herself. “You’re worried,” she guessed when I didn’t say more. “You’re worried the same thing will happen as last time.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. Grace had seen me on the first medicine; I’d even snapped at her once. “Yeah.” I nodded. “I know I’m depressed, Grace, but I’m also happy enough. Not at school, but I’m happy with my mom and sisters, and I’m happy with you.” I squeezed her fingers. “I don’t want that to change.”
“It might not,” she said softly but with a fierce faith. “Those are justpossibleside effects, notguaranteedones.” She turned and gave me a look. “I’m here for better or worse, Ev. I’m all in, always.” She let go of my hand to cup my cheek. Somehow, it took the weight of the world off my shoulders. “But I also want you to be happier than ‘happy enough.’ Your dad would want that, too. This new medication might stop you from feeling the current trying to sink you.”
I nodded. Isa had said something similar. “That’s what I realized today,” I said. “I want that, too. And I’m going to tell my mom tonight.”
“Good.” Grace touched the back of her hand to my mouth. I kissed it, and we grinned at each other before someonehonked their horn. We both jumped in our seats, a clear stretch of highway suddenly ahead of us. I waved an apology to the car behind as Grace pressed down on the gas pedal.
But all too soon, she braked right next to an Audi that immediately set off an internal siren. In my entire eighteen years of existence, I swear I’d never squawked until now.
“What?” Grace said. “What is it?”
“Your dad,” I whispered, pulse pumping. “Grace, it’s yourdad.”
She craned her neck to look out my window. “Fuck,” she mumbled. “Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Of all the cars in this standstill traffic, we’d pulled up next to Scott Barbour. This had to be some kind of joke. Ithadto be. A joke from the heavens above—
The tips of my ears prickled. Mom and Abigail had their cardinals, Margot made her friendship bracelets, and Mr.Barbour even kept an eye out for hideous Ferraris.
No,I thought.It can’t be.
Dad wasnotmessing with me.
“He’s going to see us,” Grace gulped after we shoved on our sunglasses, her hands gripping the steering wheel like it was her only lifeline. “He’ll recognize—”
“He’s not going to recognize anything,” I cut her off, unbuckling my seat belt and stretching into the backseat. I loved Grace’s car, but the one thing that drove me nuts was that whatever she and James tossed into the back made its permanent home there. There was so much stuff. Today, though, their habit might just save us. I dug through extra school supplies,drawstring bags stuffed with who knew what, and school spirit day costumes until I found something that could work. “Here,” I said, and tossed Grace a Stetson and a suede jacket with brown fringe. I vaguely remembered one of James’s blink-and-you’ll-miss-her girlfriends spending spring break out in Colorado.
“Oh, perfect,” Grace whispered as she wrestled on the jacket and slammed the hat on her head. “These were Lauren Bitterman’s. Dad only met her once.”
I mined the backseat for more, digging deeper. I needed a hat or something. Between Fairmount Park and Old City, we did acquire a Phillies jersey, and Isa had forged their top players’ autographs. Mr.Barbour would never expect me to be wearing it.
A minute later, I found a knitted beanie at the bottom of the barrel.Sure,I thought.I can be one of those guys who wears a winter hat in seventy-something-degree weather…
It looked sort of familiar.
I flipped it inside out to see the Lands’ End tag, along with a pair of initials. “He lent that to me right after I got my hair cut way too short,” Grace said as I stared at the JTA, forJesse Thomas Adler.“It was snowing outside when I left your house, and he didn’t want me to get cold.” She smiled, guilty. “I know I should’ve given it back, but it was too toasty.”
“It’s a great hat,” I agreed before hearing myself say: “It’s also a sign.”
And then I started laughing. “Shh,” Grace giggled. “Ev, bequiet!”
