Tom and Shirley took some convincing.

“Where are you going to live?” Tom had asked.

“We’ll live apart until next summer, when we’ll both be eighteen and finish school,” I said. “After that, we’ll tell our parents and get a house, or run away if we have to.”

“So why not wait to get married until next summer? What’s the point in being married if you can’t live together?”

“Don’t you want a proper wedding?” Shirley asked Mary with concern in her eyes.

“I don’t care about that. We couldn’t pay for it anyway, not now, not next summer. That won’t change. I’m ready, Shirley,” she insisted.

“You don’t have to take us,” I finally said. “But we’re going, one way or another. We’re getting married. We’ll walk there if we have to.” I searched Mary’s face for some reassurance that we weren’t crazy, that what we were doing was right. Her smile was enough.

Happiness found its way into Shirley’s eyes as she came around to the idea.

“Married. My two friends. Kind of hard to believe,” she said, smiling shyly and wrapping Mary in a hug.

But Tom didn’t change his mind. I could never figure it out at the time, why he had such a problem with it. Eventually, it took Shirley talking him into it, and I had overheard them arguing about it the night before.

But all of that was in the past. In that moment, in the heat of the car, in the glaring sun and the August air heavy with humidity, it was only Mary and me. I dug in my pocket for a tissue and dabbed the sweat from Mary’s forehead. She sighed.

Shirley came out, sat in the passenger seat with a nervous smile. When Tom climbed into the car, he didn’t even give us a backward glance.

“All set?” That was all he said.

“Yep,” I said. “Me and the missus are ready.”

Shirley laughed at that, and Mary smiled. Tom grunted, whipped the car around, and sped down the drive.

“Tom!” Shirley protested. “Slow down!”

It was a long trip, and I dozed off and on along the way. I dreamed of swimming in the lake, Mary off in the distance. The water felt amazing, but a sense of frustration grew and grew as the various dreams progressed and I couldn’t find my way to her. In the end, my limbs were exhausted, and I gave in to the water, sinking into its coolness.

I woke with a start, gasped for breath. Tom’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, but neither of us said anything. Shirley’s head rested against her door, bobbing with each bump in the highway. At some point during the drive Mary had leaned away from me, against her own window, sound asleep.

In that moment I had an overwhelming sense of panic. It was like I suddenly recognized how young we were—only seventeen! A stirring anxiety itched deep inside of me, a place I couldn’t reach. My hands were the hands of a kid. I became strangely aware of how large Tom’s suit was on me, how ill-fitting his shoes. The disappointment of my parents, should they find out that I had eloped, threatened to take my breath away.