Page 4 of Choosing You

“Dad’s nurse quit today. I need to call the agency and get someone over there.” He reaches in the car for his wallet. “Let’s go inside. You need to eat an actual meal and I need to figure out this nurse situation.”

We go in the restaurant that’s attached to the gas station. There’s a row of red vinyl booths on one side and some wooden tables and chairs scattered on the other. Displayed on the walls is an odd assortment of mismatched frames that hold photos of horses and barns.

A love song from the seventies is playing from the speakers mounted in the ceiling. I try to ignore it so it doesn’t get stuck in my head the rest of the day, but I know it will. For some reason, only really crappy songs get stuck in my head, never the good ones. I wonder if that’s just me or if it happens to everyone.

The waitress seats us at one of the booths and hands us each a small plastic coated menu. I’m not that hungry due to the earlier potato chip binge, but I have to eat or Ryan will lecture me again on my junk food addiction.

“I know it’s short notice, but your nurse quit on me!” Ryan lowers his voice when he notices people staring. “Yes, fine. Call me back when you know.” He sets the phone down hard on the table, then takes a deep breath and moves his wavy brown hair off his face. He wears his hair a little long which I think gives him an artsy look even though he’s not at all artistic.

“Did they find a replacement?” I ask.

“No. She’s calling around. I can’t believe this happens when I’m halfway across the country.” He takes a sip of water. “Sorry, Jade. This was supposed to be our fun road trip across America kicking off your new life at college and it’s not turning out that way.”

“What are you talking about? We played road games. We sang along to the radio. We ate truck stop food. What’s not to love? This has been a great trip.”

My attempt to cheer him up falls flat. His mind is focused on his dad.

“Why don’t you have Chloe stop over and check on him?”

Ryan shakes his head. “Like I would ever ask her to do that. I’ve only dated her for a month. She hasn’t even been over to the house yet.”

“She seems nice. And it would be a good test. If she refuses to check in on your father, you’ll know to dump her now before things get too serious.”

“I need to make some calls. Just get me a chicken sandwich and fries.” He takes his phone and goes outside.

I order for both of us, then sit there in the vinyl booth, my bare legs sticking to the seat. I’m still sweaty from the hot car and the ice cold air conditioning is giving me chills.

My mind wanders to the college I’ll be arriving at soon. I’ve never been to Moorhurst College. I’ve only seen the brochure, which showed a photo of a big stone building surrounded by maple trees at the peak of autumn color. On the website there were photos of some of the students. They looked like rich, preppy kids who get whatever they want. I know Ryan told me not to judge, but it’s hard not to when you see those photos.

I look down at my white ribbed tank top and jean shorts which together cost $15. The people at Moorhurst probably spend more than that on a pair of socks.

I’m still not sure why they want me at this school. I didn’t even apply there. My guidance counselor just called me into his office one day and said I was offered a scholarship to some private college in Connecticut. He said I was awarded the Kensington Scholarship, named after a rich guy who owns a chemical company and donates a lot of money to the school. Apparently Mr. Kensington heard my story and was so inspired he offered me the scholarship. I didn’t even know I had a story. But apparently, a person with my background who ends up valedictorian is a story.

Ryan comes back to the table in a much better mood. “Okay, it’s all set. The agency is sending someone over within the hour.”

“Why does someone have to get over there so fast? Did something happen to Frank?”

“Don’t worry about it. Everything’s fine now. Our road trip adventure continues.”

He’s hiding something. He always gets overly enthusiastic when he’s keeping bad news from me. Frank must be getting worse and Ryan doesn’t want me to worry. I don’t ask because I know he won’t tell me.

We eat dinner, then get back on the road. A little over an hour later we exit off the interstate onto a road that winds through a maze of trees. Connecticut is nothing like Iowa. In Iowa you can see for miles. The land is flat and there’s nothing obstructing your view. Rows of corn and soybean fields cover almost the entire state. Here in Connecticut I can only see what’s straight ahead or behind us. Tall, leafy trees line both sides of the road. I don’t even see any houses. They must be buried within the trees.

“Could you check the directions?” Ryan hands me his phone. “We should have seen it by now.”

I swipe through his phone. “You have a message from Chloe. Do you want me to see what it says?”

He grabs for the phone, but I hold it high so he can’t reach. “Come on. Just check the directions.”

“Geez. Calm down. What does she send you? Naked pictures?” He doesn’t answer. “Okay, it should be right up ahead.”

I look up as we pass a large granite sign that reads Moorhurst College.

“Turn around. You missed it.”

“I did? Really? I swear, you can’t see a thing with these trees.” Ryan turns the car around and drives slowly back the other way. I show him where to turn. We drive up a hill on a long entrance road and finally reach the campus.

It looks like something from a movie. The buildings are covered in light colored stone with ivy growing up the sides. Some have big pillars in front. They remind me of those really old buildings you see in England. Not that I’ve ever been to England, but I’ve seen pictures. The buildings line the perimeter of campus forming a square and in the middle there’s a large grassy area with benches and giant shade trees.

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