“Serena,” Allegra says, “I’m at a point in my life where I can’t organize my existence around running off and having fun all summer.”

“A point in your life? Jesus, Allegra, you’re not even nineteen!”

“So?” she says.

Mom comes in. She looks happy. “Guess what, Serena?”

“What?” Allegra and Tyler say in unison.

“Great news! About your friend!”

I hold up my hand. “I don’t want to hear—”

“Claudette Mizerak got married yesterday! To Junior Davis!”

“It,” I conclude.

“Praise God!” Mom warbles. “Her baby’s due any time, and it’ll have a father. That makes such a difference.”

“Allegra?” I ask. “I think we need to go to Niagara Falls again.”

Allegra looks sideways at my mother. “Mom?” she says. “I think this is your moment.”

“Oh!” my mother exclaims. “Serena! We’re—Scot and I—giving you a car! Straight A’s!” She hugs me. “We always knew you could do it!”

It turns out that Scot needs a new pickup truck, for the turn his business is taking, and rather than trade in his car, the BMW, it is now my reward for a year of hard work and accomplishment.

“So now you’re free!” Allegra says. “You can hit the proverbial road!”

“See the world!” Tyler choruses, not looking up as he leafs through the pages of the accounting book.

“But come back by noon on Saturday, though, okay?” my mother says.

I leave the next day and stare at Niagara Falls for a long time—all day, in fact—but it doesn’t do any good. So I just drive. I drive until the gas tank is empty, and then I fill it up again and keep driving. I have a sleeping bag and Scot’s credit card, so the only reason to go home after a couple days of driving and listening to the radio is that I only brought two pairs of underwear.

When I get back to Colchis, I don’t tell anyone I’m home.

I go to the cemetery. It looks like some kids have discovered it. One of the slates is tipped over, and there are beer cans and cigarette butts scattered around. I stand up on the Helmers, the way Grimshaw used to do when she was practicing her dance moves. From here, you can see the entire Minnechaug Valley. It looks like a quilt rippling over a bed, with its patches of pasture and woods and corn in different colors of green and gold. Colchis is tucked under the next ridge, so when the leaves are out, all you can see of it from here are the smokestacks of the Arms and one church steeple. On the other side of the Valley, the highway cuts into the hillside. Trucks crawl by, and the sun glints off the girders of the overpass where it soars over Linerville, right before the exit that leads down into our hometown.