“Or it might be more than just trash duty we face. We might all be expelled,” I say.
They are silent, until finally Seth begins tapping the horn. “What are you doing?” I ask.
“It’s a song. On the road—”
Aidan groans. I shake my head. Mira smiles and slaps the back of our seat. “I just can’t wait to get on the road again!”
“It’s just a little field trip,” Seth says.
“A trip!” Mira chimes in. “We have to give it a name!”
“So we’re agreed?” Seth asks.
Being partners in crime, partners in time, partners in a few square feet of space that leaves no room for hiding—it is a risky thing. Far riskier for me than taking a car that isn’t mine. I put my finger to an ember when I was eight, unable to resist the pulsing glow. That’s what this feels like now, like I am inching close to something dangerous. Far more dangerous than simple expulsion, to which I am accustomed.
They look at me, waiting, and that expectation alone makes my heart squeeze like a fist. If only they knew, there is no chance of this day turning out well. Especially not with me along.
Their gazes remain steady, as though something I could say would make a difference, and it is then that I notice a tiny lightness growing in the center of my chest that is nearly intoxicating, a lightness I haven’t felt since my last days at Millbury, and before I can allow myself to think it through, I find myself saying, “Agreed.”
5
I WAS STILL AT MILLBURY ACADEMY when Mr. Gardian sent the pictures of Hedgebrook. Mr. Gardian is Mother and Father’s secretary and handles the nasty details of their lives. Those nasty details include me.
When I ripped open the envelope and saw the photo on the cover of the brochure, I sat down and clutched my stomach, my fingers kneading my skin. I stared at the pictures. There were rolling green hills. White split-rail fences. A towering redbrick mansion. Tall white columns and shutters painted black. It was the landscape and architecture of home. At least as I remembered it.
I remember holding my breath, my fingers flattening against my chest, because the flutter inside frightened me. I finally breathed out when I realized it was only a stirring where deadness had been. I closed the brochure and tucked it away in a drawer beneath my underwear. I didn’t look at it again.
But when Mr. Gardian called later in the week and asked me what I thought of Hedgebrook, I sighed loudly and told him it would do. And as I replaced the phone receiver, the stirring returned, and I was certain that something had broken loose in my chest.
6
MIRA CONSUMES HERSELF with titling our getaway while the rest of us decide on our destination. The nearest town is the small village of Hedgebrook, which lies just a few more miles down the road. Aidan suggests we go see a movie at the small theater there because it will keep us out of sight. Seth vetoes that idea. “This is supposed to be fun,” he says. “All the Nubel has are sticky seats and movies that came out last year.”
“How about The Great Escape?” Mira suggests.
“We can’t go to Hedgebrook Township at all,” I say. “Not even through it. Constable Horn is always walking Main Street. He’d see us, and our day would be over before it began.”
Aidan and Seth weigh this factor. The small township is quite familiar with the Hedgebrook students. There are weekly caravans there on Saturday for movies and shopping, though shopping only consists of Keller’s Drugstore, Bainbridge Antiques, and the Minuteman Market, which added an aisle of trinkets to amuse the weekly flood of students from Hedgebrook. The constable has looked every one of us eye to eye at least once and let us know that the long arm of the law is always on guard. His swagger down Main Street is distinct and often imitated by students, even as the constable watches, because, like most of us, he doesn’t recognize himself.
“Or MADS Adventure? That’s an acronym from the first letters of our names!” Mira says proudly.
“Well, the only way past Hedgebrook is through it,” Seth replies.
I shrug. “So we turn around and go the other direction.”
“There’s nothing in the other direction for a hundred miles!” Aidan complains.
“We can be in Langdon in two hours. And to be precise, it’s only seventy-six miles away,” I correct him. “Which is an interesting number since—”
“No, you don’t!” Aidan says. “I’m not going anywhere if I have to listen to your number mumbo jumbo—”
“What?” Seth interrupts. “I want to hear.”
I raise my eyebrows at Aidan in victory and turn back to Seth. “Today is the nineteenth, and seventy-six is exactly divisible by nineteen, four times, and oddly enough, there are four of us.”
Seth settles back in his seat, for the first time giving me his full attention. “How’d you figure that out? So fast?”
“No figuring. I just pay attention to these things.”