CHAPTER1
The sorority road trip from hell has just begun, and I am stuck on this adventure. Beside me, my best friend, Catalina Mason, is slouched low with her knees pressed against the graffitied green leather of the seat in front of us. She’s been fast asleep since we embarked on this journey a few hours ago, leaving me trapped against the window, watching the sky slowly grow more vibrant.
I know that today will be a good day, even a great one, if I just open myself up to the possibility. With our senior year of college on the horizon, there is so much more I want to do. I haven’t told Cat yet, but I’m considering rushing her sorority, Epsilon Lambda Delta, in the fall. I already spend so much time with them, I might as well make it official, even if the idea of being judged by the sisters is what caused me to pull out of the rush process when Cat first went out for it.
Right now, though, I’m tired and cranky, and I think that Zara Rizvi is intentionally digging her knees into my back. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt this time—buses like the one we’re on are meant for short trips, like bringing kids to school, not long-haul road trips with twenty women riding for hours to watch their school compete in a beach volleyball tournament. A few of the girls on this trip, like Tiffany Adames and Becca Marsh, have boyfriends on the team, but most of us are just along for the ride.
My eyes slide shut, and I try to return to my happy place. I’m in a blank space that I’m filling with flowers, creating pathways with different trees and plants. Mentally, I’m lounging under a magnolia tree in full bloom, with petals falling on me as I try to sleep. Only, my adoptive mother’s text from last night is blaring in my mind:What are you doing for an internship this summer?
The peace I’ve found shatters with that thought, and I open my phone to look at her text. The same one I ignored even though it came with a photo of my ginger cat, Waffles. I plan to explain my delayed response with the excuse that I went to bed early for this trip instead of the truth—Cat and I were at a frat party doing body shots off each other in the hopes that Tommy Baker might realize what a catch Cat is and ask her to their formal.
The text is just one of a long thread reminding me that I’m a disappointment to my adoptive parents. Not that they would ever say it straight out. They love me, I know they do. Thanks to my psych class, I understand that I’m the one keeping them at arm’s length. But getting rid of the qualifieradoptivewould make me feel like I’m erasing my birth parents, even though I never knew them. It’s easier to keep pushing my adoptive parents away, the way I have since I was fifteen. Going home with Cat for holidays means that I can stop disappointing the only parents I’ve known. It’s unfair, but maybe after more extensive therapy, I’ll be able to quit being so stubborn and sayI’m sorryandthank you.
“You thinkso loud,Daphne,” Cat murmurs. She lifts her head and glares at me, then gingerly sits up straight and stretches out her back, rubbing at what I have to assume is a kink in her neck from the way she was sleeping.
“I do not.”
“Every night, I hear you thinking about internships and classes. I think your brain is actually a hamster on a wheel running all night long.” Her blue eyes find mine. “What’s got you going this morning?”
“The text,” I confess, shaking my phone at her.
“The internship text?”
“The same.”
Cat sighs and twists to face me before pulling her blonde hair from its ponytail and yanking it up into a bun.
“Where does Phil want you to intern?”
It always makes me giggle when Catalina calls my parents by their first names like they’re old college friends.
“He’s offered to have me join him at his congressional office in DC, but I think he only offered because he knows you’re going to be there.”
“Daphne Marie Hale, then just say yes. What does Melinda have to say?”
“She wants me to stay home. I think she’s starting to stress about what I’m going to do after graduation.”
“She’s your mom, of course she is. Doesn’t her law firm let her work from the East Coast anyway? Just take the summer—you can laze around Congressman Hale’s office, and then you and I can party and see what DC has to offer by way of the male specimen.”
I sigh and throw myself back in my seat, forgetting about Zara’s knees until they dig into my back and she grumbles something behind me.
“It just doesn’t feelright.Like…I feel like I’m waiting for some sort of sign to point me toward the thing I’m meant to do to become the person I’m meant to be.”
Cat grabs my face so I’m looking her dead in the eye. “You’re looking for the type of career that’s a calling. Anna had that moment when she was lifeguarding and saved a kid from drowning. Bam, she knew she wanted to be a doctor. I know I’m destined to be president of this country. I know the real world is big and scary, but sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith.”
I snort. “Me? Leap of faith?”
“You, leap of faith. Let’s come up with some sort of a plan. Maybe the universe will send you a sign during this trip. Maybe you’ll have your moment this weekend.”
This idea of a divine sign is appealing, but what it comes down to is I have to pick something and go with it. With a major in English, I can pivot so many places, but maybe I’ll get a master’s just to buy myself some time. My parents want me to be more ambitious, try for law school or something equally high stress, but it’s not what I want.
I open my mouth to say as much, but my response is cut off by a loudpop. My brain grasps to identify the sound, but I can’t hold on to a single thought. Burnt rubber permeates the air, and I don’t think I’ll ever get the smell out of my nose. All around me, screams drown out the grinding of the flat tire on the asphalt.
The bus veers sideways, fishtailing into the oncoming lane of traffic. I find myself sending up a prayer to any god that will listen to help the driver get through this. Through the screaming, I hear the driver call out for us to remain calm, but his voice is shaking and doesn’t inspire confidence. Lights from an oncoming car blaze on the palisade beside me, and the bus weaves onto the shoulder. I’m thankful I’m not on the side with a view of the ocean, because as it is, I’m imagining the worst—which is us plunging to our death.
Cat is thrown onto the floor. Gasping, I reach out to her, wanting to keep her close to me, wanting to keep her out of danger, as bags spill over us. With muscles straining, she holds tight to the legs of the seats as she fights to get back up beside me.
The bus rides the guardrail, pushing the limits of its strength before the driver is able to jerk it back. The screech of metal on metal reverberates through my bones and sets my teeth on edge. The swerve is too forceful, and my head smashes against the glass. I see stars, and then pain lances through my temple. Around me, the other women are being tossed around like dolls.