30 · Lucy
Tuesday night, I get up enough courage to ask my dad about the rodeo. My mom’s still at work. I figure it will be easier to convince Dad without her around, and then he can convince her.
Hannah comes with me. “Moral support,” she says. “How can he say no when I’m standing right here?”
I’m pretty sure seeing Hannah in her miniscule tank top and skimpy, frayed cutoffs might have the opposite effect.
I raise my eyebrows. “Are you serious? Maybe you should put on some clothes first.”
She rolls her eyes. “Your dad loves me.”
I snort.
Dad’s at the kitchen table with the paper and a cup of coffee.
“Hey.” I sit down across from him. Hannah stands in the doorway.
“Hi, Luce.” He nods in Hannah’s direction. “Hannah.”
“Hey, Mr. Meadows,” Hannah says with an extra splash of twang.
There’s no point in prolonging this. “Dad,” I say, “Hannah’s invited me to go to the Stampede in Mitchell this weekend.”
He looks from me to Hannah and back to me. “That’s the rodeo?”
“Yes.”
“With her parents?”
“No, sir,” Hannah pipes in. “With Dustin and Simon.”
The boys were more than on board when Hannah mentioned a road trip.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
Exactly what I was expecting.
“Dad, listen—”
“No, Lucy. You are sixteen years old. You’re not old enough to go away for the weekend without an adult.”
“Dustin’s eighteen,” Hannah offers, but my dad turns to glare at her, and she mumbles something about waiting outside before she disappears. So much for moral support.
“Dad, it’s not like that.”
“It’s not like what?”
“I don’t know, like that. Whatever you think. You automatically assume we’re going to get in trouble or get pregnant or something. We’re just going to go camping and see the rodeo, that’s all. Two tents. Girls and boys. I swear.”
“Sounds like you’ve got this all planned out.”
“It was Simon’s idea,” I say. The lie slips out without a thought, and for a minute, I think it might work. Since that fishing trip on Father’s Day when they bonded over Bond, my dad thinks Simon can do no wrong.
“The answer is no, Lucy.”
“Dad, please,” I can’t keep the pleading out of my voice. “I don’t ask for much. I want to get away for a weekend.”
He interrupts me. “You just spent a weekend in Duluth. How much more time away do you need?”
If he only knew. “I was working. Isn’t this what you wanted, for me to spend more time with friends? I promise, nothing will happen. And it’s Simon. Don’t you trust him?”
“I don’t trust him enough for you to go away for the weekend with him. We don’t know him.”
“I know him,” I say, and bite my lip.
He looks at me with a tilt of his head and his eyes narrow.
“How well do you know him, Lucy? You two have been seeing a lot of each other lately, haven’t you?”
I nod. “Yes. We’re dating, Dad. It’s not a crime.”
“No,” he says again. “You’re not going to South Dakota with a boy we hardly know.”
“You know him! He’s been living next door all summer!”
“Lucy—”
“You would let Clayton go.”
“That’s different.”
Of course it’s different. It’s different to him but not to me. Clayton at sixteen? He would have loved to raise hell at a rodeo.
“Nice double standard, Dad.” My words are sharp, bitter.
I don’t wait to hear his reply, if he has one. I turn and am out of the kitchen in a flash. I head to the front porch where Hannah waits.
“We’re going,” I tell her. “I don’t care what he says, and I’m not even going to bother asking my mom. We’re going.”
“Yeehaw!” Hannah whoops and throws her pink cowgirl hat high into the air.
Sneaking out of the house Friday night is almost too easy. I stay up later than my parents, watching TV. I turn the volume down, set the timer for it to power off at 12:30, and slip out the front door a few minutes before midnight. I don’t bother to leave a note. They’ll figure it out soon enough.
I walk down our long driveway, where Dustin will have parked his truck. Simon will meet us there, too, although he’s going to South Dakota with his mother’s blessing, since she’s got an art fair in St. Paul this weekend. She told him to have a great time, that she was proud of him for broadening his horizons.
Dustin’s enormous red pickup is parked on the shoulder. Hannah’s with him, and of course they’re making out. She sits on the open tailgate, her legs wrapped around him.
I don’t see Simon. I clear my throat.
Dustin turns his head but keeps his arms around Hannah’s waist.
“Hey, Lucy,” he says, and grins. “All set?”
“Yep.” I shove my duffel bag into the covered bed next to Hannah. Simon shows up with a backpack and a plastic bag full of convenience-store snacks.
He pulls me close and kisses me hard. “This is going to be a weekend we’ll never forget,” he whispers.
The drive to Mitchell is seven long hours. Hannah promises to stay awake to keep Dustin company while he drives, but I’m tired. My knees are smashed against Hannah’s seat back, my cheek against the cold window. There’s a crick in my neck.
“Lucy,” Simon says after a while, “that can’t be comfortable.”
He pulls me toward him. He’s warm. His shoulder, his smell, have become familiar. He wraps an arm around me and I fall asleep there.