“How the hell do you know all of this?”
I shake my head slowly. “I’ve researched the National Guard.”
“Why?”
“For retirement,” I say, shrugging. “I don’t know, just looking to see what else is out there.”
“I thought we were starting a brewery?”
“We are or can. I’m totally down for it, but we can still serve our country and keep our benefits if we join the Guard. It’s one weekend a month and a few weeks out the summer or something like that. Just an option.”
“Options are nice,” Mitch says and turns his attention back to the passing scenery. “It’s really green,” he mumbles.
Leaning forward slightly, I peer out the window until the trees make me dizzy. After I sit back and readjust, I chance a look at my phone. Deep down, I’m hoping there’s a message or a phone call from Lottie, even though I doubt she’ll call me back. She has no reason to, and the more I think about it, I should’ve never listened to Krew. I don’t even understand why he was so insistent that I call his cousin. It’s been ten years, and a lot can happen in those years.
“Any place to stop around here?”
He makes me laugh. “I’ve only been to Vermont once, but when I mapped our trip out, there wasn’t much until we reached a few exits. I have a list of places on the back of our itinerary.”
Mitch reaches into the backseat and struggles a bit until he pulls out all the pieces of paper I have folded together. “Geez,” he says when he unfolds the stack. “You’re freaking anal.”
“I can’t help it.”
“You can. You choose not to.” Mitch flips through the pages, muttering as he goes. “Shit, you even have the rest stops marked on here, and how long it should take us. What if I need to take a crap?”
I roll my eyes. “It’s just . . .” well, now that I think about it, I’m not sure why I put so many details down. “I think I was bored when I started mapping this out.”
Mitch shakes his head. “Says here that Burlington is the place to get food and where we will find a hotel.”
“We don’t need a hotel,” I tell him. “We’ll be fine to make it to Montreal.”
“How long until we’re there?”
I point to the GPS. “What does it say right there, spanky?”
Mitch backhands me. “Don’t be an ass.”
He’s right. I shouldn’t be. “Sorry, my mind.”
Mitch turns slightly in his seat and folds his hands together, placing them in his lap. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He’s genuine, even though he’s a facetious jerk. I’ve never been one to share or show affection, whereas Mitch talks about everything. Because of how I grew up, I’ve learned to compartmentalize my thoughts, and I often forget there are people out there who care about me.
“I will,” I tell him. “As long as you turn back to sitting normally.”
Mitch does and even goes as far as to reclining his seat a bit. “There, now you’ll be the therapist, and I’ll be the patient since you’re the one driving. We’ll call it role reversal.”
I inhale deeply and center myself. “You remember what I told you earlier, right? About living in that town?”
“Yeah, made a few friends.”
I nod. “Well, Krew was one of them. His family is really nice, but also wealthy. They pretty much own the town. He has a twin brother but also has a bunch of cousins, most of who are around my age.”
“I’m guessing one of these cousins is this woman he wanted you to call today?”
Nodding, I continue, “Lottie, although I prefer to call her Charlotte, was the nicest and prettiest girl in school. Beyond popular, every guy wanted to date her.”
“But she wanted you, you devil.”
I give Mitch a side-eye glance. “Let me finish.”
“Roger that.”
“Anyway,” I sigh heavily. “I was definitely in the mix of boys who liked Charlotte but knew I never stood a chance. When I say wealthy, I mean the upper echelon of people. Each kid had brand-new cars, they all live on the lake, which I believe they own, run the only ski lodge in town, among other things. We’re talking boats, jet skis, parties—every teenager's dream. I’m on the outside, looking in, and thinking this is what a family looks like.
“I’m in town maybe three weeks when Charlotte comes up to me in history class and asks if I need a partner. I’m fairly sure I bit my tongue and nodded, completely frightened to speak because I was afraid of saying something embarrassing. She gives me her address and tells me what time to come over. One of our other classmates sees the entire exchange and tells me I need to pack condoms because Charlotte Carmichael puts out if I want to get laid.
“I’m shaking like a leaf when I push the doorbell. The house is so damn big, the chime echoes, which makes matters worse for my nerves. Charlotte answers the door wearing sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt, hair in some bun thing on top of her head, and in slippers. She will never know how much relief I felt in that moment because if a girl is trying to get some action, this was not the thing to wear,” I point out. “Don’t get me wrong, she’s still a total knockout, but with no skin showing, teenage Jack can cope. She invites me in, introduces me to her parents, and then takes me into the kitchen, where I stumble over my feet at the view. Her house faces the lake, and her home has these floor to ceiling windows, which lets you see everything. For some reason, I think it’s wise to go over and drool, and when Charlotte stands next to me, I expect her to tell me to leave because I’m gawking, but she hands me a bottle of water and starts pointing out who lives where. It’s like a damn compound or some shit.
“I follow her to the kitchen table where her books are spread out. Charlotte tells me to sit, and I do. It takes me a long minute to figure out that she really wants to study and that she must’ve turned the dickwad in class down. Her parents invited me to stay for dinner and asked me a lot of questions about my life, where my parents were, and how I like living in Holyoak. After that night, I was in their group, with Charlotte, her brothers, and cousins.
“It wasn’t until a week or so before I planned to leave that we hooked up. Most people in town thought we were dating. I guess we were, sort of, I was just too nervous to really make a move. Her parents went out of town, and she invited me over. I expected things to be normal until she answered the door in bra and panties and pulled me upstairs.”
“Was she as easy as the dickwad said?”
I shake my head slowly. “Not at all. We were each other’s first. Before we went through it, I tried to tell her that I was leaving, but hormones, man. Those things are a bitch when you’re a teenager and haven’t learned self-control. For the next week, we screwed as if our lives depended on it. In her car, the lake house, on the boat, in the lake. She unleashed a beast. I didn’t want to stop, and I also didn’t want to tell her I was leaving.
“When I finally found the nerve to tell her I had already enlisted before I moved to Holyoak, she cried. I cried. I had a good thing going but also knew, deep down, good things end. When I turned eighteen, I would have no place to live and needed to take care of myself. It was hard for her to understand because she had everything. Come fall, she would leave for college, and I’d be,” I pause. “I’d be nowhere, with no one. It wasn’t like I could go to college with her, and there was no way I had the money even to enroll.