My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I pulled it out and looked at it.

Bill

How’s the trip going? Hit the road yet?

I smiled at that, then put my phone back in my pocket, planning to respond when my family wouldn’t be watching. It hadn’t played a part in my decision making, but the fact that Bill would only be twenty minutes away was definitely an added bonus. To my surprise, we’d stayed in contact after the wedding, and even though I hadn’t seen him, we’d been talking—either texting or e-mailing or having hours-long phone calls—all summer. I wasn’t sure what, if anything, was going to happen with us. I was hoping something might. But at the very least, I was glad to have a friend in the Chicago area.

“So,” Mike said, looking down at his phone, then back at me. “We should probably hit the road. We told Linnie and Rodney we’d be there before dinner.”

I nodded, realizing that he was right. The car was packed and I had the directions programmed into my phone—now the only thing to do was go.

“We’ll see you at homecoming?” Mike asked my dad as they hugged, and my dad patted him on the shoulder. “And you said you were coming at the end of October?” he asked my mom.

I tried to smile as my mom nodded, but this—the fact that there wasn’t just one plan anymore, one way where I would get to see both my parents at the same time—I definitely wasn’t used to yet. Bill had told me that it would just take time, and I was trying to believe him.

“Call me when you guys get to Linnie’s,” my mom said, hugging Mike. “And drive safe,” she called after him. He nodded as he headed for the passenger seat, and I realized that he was giving me a moment to do my good-byes with my parents alone.

I turned to them and immediately felt a lump rise in my throat. I tried to tell myself I was being ridiculous, that people left for college all the time, and I’d be seeing my dad in a few weeks.

“Learn lots of stuff,” my dad said, and I noticed his voice sounded a little hoarse. “But also remember to have a good time.”

“But not too good a time,” my mother cautioned. “Don’t stop going to classes like that semester J.J. decided he was on strike.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” I assured them. My dad gave me a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, then pulled me into a hug.

“Proud of you, kiddo,” he whispered to me, and I brushed away a tear that had fallen as I stepped away.

“Call me at least once a week,” my mother said as I hugged her, trying for stern but not really pulling it off. “Have fun,” she said to me as she stepped away, giving my hand a squeeze. “Have the most amazing adventure.”

I nodded, brushing my hand over my face as I tried to pull myself together. “I’ll do my best,” I said, and my dad smiled. “And . . .” I took a breath, not even knowing how to put this into words. How was it that you only fully realized what you had when it was gone? And I knew there would be new friends, new experiences, maybe even amazing adventures ahead of me. But I felt like I needed, for just a moment, to appreciate what I was—what we all were—leaving behind. “Thank you, guys. For everything. For . . .” I shook my head, not able to find the words for what we’d all had together. “Thanks,” I finally finished, and my parents both nodded—and it looked like they understood what I’d been trying to say.

I smiled at them both, then made myself turn and walk toward the car. I got into the driver’s seat, and Mike looked over at me. “You okay?”

I nodded, taking a deep breath. “I am.” I started the car and was about to drive forward, when I turned around and looked through the back window to see my parents standing there, closer than I would have expected, watching us go. I lifted my hand and waved, and they waved back.

Then I turned around and looked at what was in front of me. I took a deep breath, shifted the car out of park, and drove forward.