If you wanted to survive on the streets, you didn’t act slow. I’d figured out quickly how to care for myself. Granted, I’d had help. In the beginning, Karson had been my lifeline.
He and I had lived in the same shitty neighborhood. As kids, he’d walked with me to school and had played with me at the neighborhood park. It was a miracle neither of us had contracted tetanus from the swing set. Whenever I ran from my home crying, I’d often find him at that park, avoiding his own home.
Karson had been my closest friend. The day he hadn’t showed up at school, I’d gone to check on him. When I’d peeked through his window and saw his backpack was missing, I’d known he’d finally had enough.
When I’d hit the same breaking point, I’d sought him out. There hadn’t been a lot of other options. Karson had already made the junkyard his home. Then he’d helped make it mine.
A month later, Londyn came along. I’d found her digging through a Dumpster behind a restaurant, picking off a piece of wilted lettuce from a sandwich and actually opening her mouth to eat the damn thing. I gagged remembering that stench.
I’d ripped that sandwich out of her hand and tossed it back in the trash where it had belonged.
We’d been best friends ever since.
After saving her from the sandwich, I’d hauled her to the junkyard, made her a peanut butter and jelly, and introduced her to Karson. It had taken them three months to finally admit they liked each other. And another three months before Karson began spending his nights in her Cadillac.
A lot had changed since then. Life had split us all apart, though Londyn and I had always stayed friends. We’d both spent years living in Boston, meeting for drinks and manicures on a weekly basis. But Boston hadn’t been right, for either of us.
I was happy she’d found Brooks and a home in West Virginia. Had the others found happiness too? A few years ago—driven by curiosity or nostalgia or both—I’d hired a private investigator to look everyone up. It had taken him a few months since I hadn’t given him much to start with besides names, but he’d found them. Karson had still been in California, Clara in Arizona, and Aria in Oregon.
And Katherine was in Montana, where I’d left her behind.
The sound of my ringing phone startled me and I stretched to grab it from the passenger seat, seeing Londyn’s name on the screen.
“I was just thinking about you,” I answered.
“Good things?”
“I was thinking about how we met.”
“You mean how you saved me from food poisoning and ultimate starvation?”
I laughed. “Yep.”
“Ah, good times.” She giggled. “How’s the trip?”
In the background, I heard her husband, Brooks. “Ask her if the car is running okay.”
“Did you hear him?” she asked.
“Yeah. Tell him it’s running fine.”
“She says there’s a strange knocking sound every few minutes. And if she gives it too much gas at once, the whole car lurches.”
“What?” His voice echoed to my ear. “I just tuned it up. Give me that phone.”
I laughed at the sound of her swatting him away.
“I’m kidding,” she told him. “The car is fine. Now go away so we can talk. Ellie needs her diaper changed. I saved it just for you.”
“Gee, thanks,” he muttered. Through the phone, I recognized the sound of a soft kiss.
Jealousy would be easy if I wasn’t so happy for her.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“I crossed into Colorado about twenty miles ago. I’m hoping to get to Denver tonight. Then maybe tomorrow, I’ll put in a long stretch and see if I can get to Las Vegas.”
Londyn sighed. “There’s no hurry, Gem. Why don’t you stay in Colorado for a week? Explore and relax.”
“Maybe.” Did I even know how to relax?
“When was the last time you took a weekend off?”
“Um . . .” It hadn’t been in recent years. “Montana, I guess.”
“That was—what?—eleven years ago? I’d say you’re overdue,” she said. “So you were thinking about the junkyard days, huh? Why?”
“I don’t know. Reminiscing, I guess. Wondering where do I go after this trip. Things were hard, but life seemed easier back at Lou’s.”
Lou Miley had owned the junkyard where the six of us kids had lived. He’d been a loner and a gruff old man. Unfriendly and irritable. But he’d let us stay without question.
“Are you okay?” Londyn asked. “Should I be worried?”
“No,” I promised. “I was just thinking about how we all scattered. Everyone but Karson. I wonder how everyone is doing.”
“You’re still upset about the Katherine thing, aren’t you?”
“I screwed up.”
Londyn sighed. “You were nineteen years old and jumped at an opportunity to make some money. I highly doubt she holds it against you. Considering where we all came from, Katherine, above all people, couldn’t fault you for wanting to better your life.”
“I don’t know,” I mumbled.
I’d broken a promise to a close friend. I’d ditched her, choosing money over that promise and the decision had haunted me since.
This was a fresh start for me. There was nothing holding me back. Londyn wanted me to take an overdue vacation. Maybe what I really needed before I could concentrate on the future, was to make an overdue apology for a past mistake.
An idea stirred in my mind, calling and demanding some attention. It was like a flashing light, one that would keep blinking until I gave it my focus. This feeling was familiar, and usually, it meant another successful business venture.
But not this time.
This idea had nothing to do with money.
“Would you care if it took me longer than planned to get the Cadillac to Karson?” Because my intuition was screaming at me to take a massive detour.
“Nope,” she said. “It’s your trip. Make the most of it.”
“Okay.” I smiled. “Thanks, Lonny.”
“Of course. Call me soon.”
“Bye.” The moment I ended the call, I pulled up my digital map and punched in a new destination.
These spontaneous decisions of the past few weeks suddenly made sense. They had purpose. They had meaning. They were to get me here, in this moment.
I was setting out to right a wrong. To find myself again.
On the wild highway.
Chapter Two
Gemma
I’d forgotten the majesty of Montana. I’d forgotten how vast the state was. How the landscapes changed from savage prairie to rugged forest as you traveled from one side to the other.
The last time I’d traveled through Montana, it had been on a bus destined for Boston. Back then, I’d cursed the driver for taking the trip at such a lazy pace. This time, I’d let myself find excuses to slow down.
In the past five days, I’d made a conscious effort to drive unhurried. Mostly, it was to avoid a ticket. But there was also a part of me nervous about seeing Katherine again, and that anxiety had given me plenty of excuses to stop along the way.