Chapters (46)
- Cover
- Other Titles
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Friday
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- Saturday
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- Sunday
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- Monday
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Sunday afternoon, London decides to borrow Nana’s car to take into town. She feels kind of weird about it, especially since she only has her learner’s permit, but it’s not like the cops are really going to stop her, and as long as Nana’s in the hospital she’s not going to be driving, so what’s the point of just letting it sit there? As she gets into the Volvo, she promises herself she’ll stop by the hospital later. It’s true what she told Aunt F – she hasn’t visited Nana yet, mostly because she’s been busy trying to figure out how she’s going to get to Duluth, but also because she doesn’t know what she’s going to say to her. What do you say to a person who’s in a coma? Can they even hear you? Or do they just, like, pick up on your vibes? London doesn’t know, and it’s not like anyone is going to explain it to her. No one will tell her anything about what is going on. Her mother just slams stuff around the kitchen and Hamish hides in the shed, just like usual. She has barely even seen Uncle Shawn, and Aunt Katriina kind of scares her. And Aunt F, well, she used to be cool, London supposes. But then she left. So fuck her, she thinks as she turns the key in the ignition. London might as well not even have a family. She might as well be an orphan.
Angrily, she throws the Volvo into reverse and smashes into something behind her. “Shit!” she says, slamming her hands on the wheel. She looks in the rear-view mirror and sees the back end of the Volvo embedded into the side of Uncle Shawn’s Jeep. She puts the car in drive and lurches forward. The Volvo seems unscathed, so she makes a split-second decision and before anyone comes out to see what the noise was, she drives away.
At the bus station she waits in line behind a strung-out couple arguing about whether there is caffeine in Mountain Dew. “I can’t drink it if there’s caffeine in it,” the woman says as she absently twirls a cigarette in her fingers. “It’s bad for the baby.”
“There’s no fucking caffeine in it,” the man says. “Just drink it. You need to stay hydrated.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Hydrated. Like with water and shit.”
“That’s not water, it’s Mountain Dew.”
“Same thing.”