Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Fiction - General,
Coming of Age,
Maine,
Crimes against,
American Contemporary Fiction - Individual Authors +,
Women college students - Crimes against,
Women college students,
College Freshmen,
Community and College
Texas, or maybe Mexico.â She squinted at him. Patrick was still wearing his ripped parka and dirty Dexter sweatpants. They were the only clothes he had. âHey, youâre that guy. Whereâd you get this schmancy car?â
âFound it,â he said. âDo you want a ride or not?â
âNah.â Tragedy removed herself from the window. âIâm holding out for Texas.â She planned to get as close to the border as possible, then stroll on into Mexico. Sheâd get a job making tacos or training donkeys.
Patrick pulled away and eased the car up the hill toward campus. The gas light had been on all day. He pulled into the parking lot across from Coke, did his best to emulate his sisterâs terrible parking job, and left the keys on the tire.
Â
S hipley squirmed in the front seat of Adamâs car while Professor Rosen disappeared inside the convenience store to pay forher gas and stock up on Pringles and Oreos, or whatever else sustained her.
âI canât believe Iâve only been here a week and my car was stolen,â Shipley fretted. âMy dadâs going to kill me.â
âAre your parents pretty strict?â Adam asked, only because his parents werenât.
âTheyâre not, not really,â she mused. It was she who was strict, with herself. How could she screw up when her brother had screwed up enough for the both of them? She was about to tell Adam all about Patrick and the tense silences between her parents at dinnertime, when Professor Rosenâs head loomed large in the open window.
âShipley Gilbert, do the words âroaming restrictionsâ mean anything to you?â she demanded. There was no way for Shipley to know this, but roaming restrictions as a form of punishment had been put in place during her brotherâs tenure at Dexter.
Shipley sat up and glanced at Adam. His face was very red. âIâm sorry,â she stammered. âThis isnât his fault. My car was stolen. I thought the week was pretty much over, and I needed some bug repellent for tonight.â
Professor Rosen frowned and turned her attention to Adam. âMaine platesâ she observed. âYou live around here?â
Shipley decided not to remind her that sheâd already been inside Adamâs house.
Adam wondered if he was in for it now too. âJust a few miles away. River Road, toward China.â
Professor Rosenâs eyes lit up. âNo kidding. Weâre on River too, the Homeward end.â She squinted at him for an awkward minute. Her hair was pretty, Shipley noticed for the first time, light brown with natural reddish blond highlights that reflected the sun. âI have to ask,â the professor continued. âYou donât happen to have any acting experience, do you?â
Acting in front of an audience was not something Adam had ever considered. In fact, the idea terrified him. âNo, not really. Sorry.â
âWell, Iâm putting on a one-act play. I do one every year. This yearâs The Zoo Story by Edward Albee. Know it?â
Adam shook his head.
âThere are only two parts, Peter and Jerry, and youâre just right for Peter.â
âOkay.â Adam nodded politely, even though he had no intention of ever acting in the professorâs play.
âWhatâs your name, anyway?â
âAdam. Adam Gatz.â
âAll right, Adam. Think about it.â Professor Rosen rapped her knuckles on the roof of the car, directly above Shipleyâs head. âNow, be a good kid and drive her back to campus where she belongs.â
6
D exter was an earnest place. Eliza had been waiting all week for something ironic to happenâa deadly hailstorm of Hacky Sacks, or a Birkenstock-induced foot fungus requiring amputationâwith no luck. And the student population was dead-set on being into thingsâthe Woodsmenâs Team, football, the election, beerâthat she