The Road That Leads to Us

by Micalea Smeltzer

  “You can pick, Lyls,” I told my sister as my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. I slipped it out and the screen was illuminated with a picture of Dean. It was one from some random store in the mall and he was wearing a Pikachu beanie and a goofy smile. “I’ll be back down in a bit.” I told Lylah as I headed for the attic stairs.

  On the way up I answered the phone with an exaggerated, “’Ello govna.”

  “Are you British now?” Dean asked with a chuckle.

  I kicked off my shoes and practically fell onto my bed. “I’m not sure what I was going for there,” I admitted, “but it did make you laugh, so it must have worked. What’s up?” I rolled onto my stomach with my feet hanging off the bed.

  “I know we didn’t talk about what day we’d leave, but I figured knowing you you’d want to leave as soon as possible, like tomorrow,” he rambled, “but Grace’s graduation is Friday and she’s going to be upset if I miss it. And she wants you there too. So I was wondering if you’d be okay to leave Saturday morning?”

  He finally grew quiet on the other end and I giggled.

  “Dean, you ramble so much when you’re nervous. Saturday is fine. I’m going to need the extra time to sweet talk my dad into being okay with this. It’s not a big deal. Promise.”

  “Oh. Okay.” He seemed to take a deep breath. “So,” he hedged, drawing out the word, “do you think you can make it to Grace’s graduation. She misses you.”

  “Of course she misses me,” I snorted, “I’m awesome and very miss-able.”

  His laughter rumbled against my ear. “I always forget modesty isn’t your specialty.”

  “Do I have to wear a dress?” I wrinkled my nose in distaste at the thought alone.

  “Yes, Willow.”

  “Dammit.” I rolled onto my back and kicked my legs in the air. “I’ll be there though.”

  “Do you need me to pick you up?”

  I snorted. “I might’ve ditched a lot, but I do know how to get to the high school.”

  “Okay, okay,” he intoned. “Good luck with your dad.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you Friday then.”

  “See you.”

  He hesitated on the line a moment longer, like there was something he wanted to say, but then he ended the call.

  Okay then.

  I set my phone on the bed and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a tank top from the drawer.

  I was in desperate need of a shower.

  I felt gross after being on the road all day and needed to wash the ickiness from my skin.

  Once I felt like a human again I padded downstairs to the basement where Mascen and Lylah were already setting up the movie—A Cinderella Story. The one with Hilary Duff. Poor Mascen.

  “Are you sure you want to watch that one Lyls?” He asked her. “What about this one?” He pointed to Interstellar.

  “It’s my turn to pick and I want to watch this one,” Lylah explained calmly, putting the movie in the DVD player. “When it’s your turn we can watch that one.”

  “Fine,” Mascen sighed, flopping onto the couch.

  I stepped further into the room and they finally noticed me.

  “Mom ordered us pizzas,” Mascen said.

  I laughed, taking a seat on the large sectional couch and pulling a blanket over top of me. “Oh please, we all know mom really got the pizza for herself.”

  “True,” Mascen relented, “but I’m not going to complain.”

  “Ooh, wait.” I hopped up from the couch. “We need popcorn. I’ll be right back.”

  Mascen and Lylah watched as I hurried up the stairs—they were both much more laid back while I was always a bit (or a lot) hyper.

  My mom and dad had moved from the kitchen to the family room and I could hear them talking in hushed tones.

  I hoped my mom was trying to convince my dad to let me go.

  I’d probably go whether or not he agreed, but I really hoped he did.

  I didn’t like going against his wishes.

  I might’ve been highly independent, but I loved my dad and his approval meant a lot to me.

  I grabbed the box of popcorn from the pantry and took out two bags since I knew Mascen would polish off one whole bag by himself.

  While the popcorn popped I grabbed the sour gummy worms and a large mixing bowl that was meant for cake batter. When the popcorn had finish popping I dumped one of the bags in the bowl and added the sour gummy worms, mixing them together.

  I kept the other bag separate.

  The doorbell rang and my dad answered it. A moment later he came into the kitchen with three boxes of pizza.

  He lifted the lids on each and then slid two over the counter to me. “I believe these are for you guys.”

  “Thanks pops.” I picked up the boxes in one hand and balanced the bowl and bag on top.

  He winced. “Don’t call me pops. It makes me feel old and I am not old.”

  “Daddy-o?” I raised a brow, waiting for his response.

  “How about we stick with dad?” He reached over to ruffle my hair.

  “Don’t do that,” I groaned, heading for the basement.

  Growing serious, my dad said, “We’re all happy you’re home sweetheart. We missed you.”

  “I missed you guys too,” I admitted. “But dad,” I paused and waited for him to nod before I continued, “I also need to spread my wings and fly. Okay?”

  His lips thinned and he nodded. “I know.” Taking a deep breath, he whispered again, “I know.”

  Dean

  It was sweltering beneath the sun.

  I was sure even my sweat was sweating and the graduation ceremony hadn’t begun yet.

  “Thank goodness you dressed up,” my mom leaned over to tell me, “it’s more than I can say for your father.” She glared at the jeans he wore with a red and black plaid shirt.

  “Honey,” he rubbed her shoulder, “it’s the school’s colors. What’s wrong with that?”

  “It’s our daughter’s graduation, I would’ve thought you could have at least made the effort to not wear something you wear practically every day.”

  “I didn’t make the effort for Dean’s either,” he argued.

  “I feel the love, dad,” I chuckled.

  Beside me Linc snickered. “He’ll dress up for my graduation, mom. I’m his favorite.”

  “You wish kid.” I reached over and ruffled his hair.

  “Dude, don’t do that.” His cheeks reddened and he quickly flattened the strands. I noticed him glancing across from us at a girl his age.

  “Oh.” I elbowed my brother. “Linc has a crush. Mom,” I leaned around my dad to see her better, “Lincoln has a crush,” I repeated.

  Linc’s hand slapped against my mouth. “Shh, she might hear you!” He whisper-hissed.

  I removed his hand with ease. “What’s her name?” I asked.

  “I’m not telling,” he muttered.

  “Boys,” my mom groaned, “keep it down.”

  “Sorry,” we said simultaneously.

  “Is Willow coming?” My mom asked, looking around.

  We’d saved her a seat on the bleachers, but so far she’d yet to show.

  But Willow was always late.

  It was something I had accepted about her a long time ago.

  “She’ll be here.” When Willow said she was going to do something, she did it.

  My mom looked doubtful and continued to scan the crowd of people still looking for seats.

  Two minutes before the ceremony was set to start I saw Willow’s white Lexus come barreling into the parking lot above the football field. It screeched to a stop as she parked in the middle of the lot—there were no available parking spaces—and tumbled out of the car.

  “She’s here,” I informed my mom with a grin.

  She shook her head as Willow came running down the main set of stairs into the stadium.

  I stood and cupped my hands around my mouth. “Willow! Over here!”

  She’d had her head down, wa
tching her step, but at the sound of my voice she looked up and her blue eyes collided with mine. She smiled widely and waved.

  She hurried up the bleachers and I couldn’t help but scan the bare expanse of her legs. I was shocked she’d actually worn a dress, but I wasn’t surprised to see a pair of solid white Converse on her feet.

  Willow was simple like that.

  “I’m sorry I’m late.” She panted as she collapsed onto the empty space of bleacher beside me.

  Her blonde hair curled around her shoulders and I had the strange urge to reach out and touch it to see if it was as soft as it looked.

  “Did I miss anything?” She asked.

  I shook my head.

  She righted her dress and turned to look at me. Cracking half a smile, she said, “You look nice.”

  I glanced down at my tan colored pants and blue polo shirt. “You mean I don’t look like a preppy golf player?”

  “Well, you kind of do.” She giggled, the sound of her laugh light and musical. “I definitely prefer your normal clothes, but this isn’t bad.”

  I leaned over to whisper in her ear. “My mom picked it out.”

  “No she didn’t.” Willow laughed even harder and the sound was like heaven.

  “Yeah, you’re right, she didn’t. I thought I better dress appropriately for the occasion.” I shrugged and my shoulder brushed hers.

  She smiled up at me, and this close I couldn’t miss the smattering of freckles across her nose or the gold flecks in her eyes.

  Willow was one of those girls that were effortlessly beautiful. It wasn’t just her looks that made her beautiful it was her personality too. There was no one else quite like her.

  “He said yes,” she whispered gleefully as the music started up, signaling the arrival of the seniors.

  My eyes widened. I knew I should’ve been scanning the line of seniors for my sister, but for the moment my eyes were glued to Willow.

  “Your dad said yes to the trip?” I confirmed.

  She nodded, practically bouncing in her seat with barely contained energy. “Is tomorrow too soon to leave?”

  “I’m game.”

  She let out this high-pitched sound that probably had dogs cringing from miles away. I know I certainly had a ringing in my ears.

  “We should probably stock up on lollipops.” I winked.

  Her answering grin was infectious and I felt my own lips tip up.

  Before I could respond my mom let out a small scream and jolted into a standing position.

  “Oh, I see her! My baby is all grown up!” She cried as my dad stood up with her.

  “Uh…” Linc mumbled. “I thought I was your baby.”

  “Quiet,” she hissed at him, clasping her hands together. “Trace, did you get a picture of her? Please tell me you did.”

  “I got it, babe.”

  Linc glanced over at me. “Ew, they’re getting all mushy on us.”

  I chuckled and watched with a smile as the class filed down the field to take their seats on the white folding chairs.

  I couldn’t imagine how my parents must feel seeing their second child graduate from high school, because even I felt a bit emotional.

  My baby sister was growing up.

  She was already grown up.

  Whoa.

  Grace spotted us up in the stands and waved enthusiastically.

  We all waved back and to me, Willow said, “She looks good. It’s been too long.”

  I slung an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. “It has, Will. We’ve all missed you.”

  “Bleh,” she groaned, ducking out from under my arm, “I’ve missed you guys too, but I haven’t missed that nickname one bit.”

  I laughed heartily at that.

  Willow had tried to get all of us to stop calling her Will a long time ago, but it was so far ingrained in me that it was practically in my DNA.

  “At least it’s better than Willie,” I reasoned.

  Her younger siblings had called her that when they were growing up since they couldn’t pronounce Willow.

  “Oh yeah, that’s much worse,” she agreed.

  “Shush you two,” my mom scolded.

  Willow made a silly face and then mimed zipping her lips.

  We grew quiet as different students, teachers, and the principal took the stage to speak.

  By the time they finally started calling names I was sweating profusely and cursing every sun god I could think of off the top of my head.

  Re.

  Sol.

  Helios.

  I loathed them all at the moment as I melted in the humid summer heat.

  Beside me Willow wiggled around restlessly.

  The girl hated to sit still. I had no idea how she thought she was going to make it all the way across the country and back in my little car.

  This was going to be interesting.

  “Oh God,” Willow pulled at the top of her dress, fanning her chest, “they’re only on the H’s.”

  “It sucks having a last name that starts with W.” I agreed. “You’re always last with everything.”

  “Mhmm.” She nodded her head in agreement. “I need some water.”

  “Here.” I reached down and handed her the water bottle I’d brought with me. I knew she wouldn’t mind drinking after me.

  “You’re always prepared,” she muttered, taking the offered bottle.

  I grinned. “All those years of Boy Scouts paid off.”

  “Dean, be quiet,” my mother groaned, her eyes zeroed in on the field.

  “Why?” I spread my arms, exasperated. “They’re only on the K’s.”

  She turned to glare at me.

  Even at twenty-one I knew that glare still meant trouble.

  “I’ll be quiet.” I ducked my head like a naughty child.

  Beside me Willow laughed heartily.

  What felt like forever later they finally reached the end of the list and Grace Isabel Wentworth was called to the stage.

  She shook hands with the principal as he handed her the diploma and she beamed up at the stands with a triumphant smile that said I did it.

  Yes you did, Gracie.

  I couldn’t hear it from where we sat, but I knew she giggled as she ran forward to take her seat once more. Her brown hair billowed around her shoulders and her happiness was contagious.

  I was glad I’d stayed to be here.

  It would’ve sucked to miss this.

  The class tossed their black and red caps in the air and a whole new crop of kids joined the real world.

  Good luck to ‘em.

  The family in the stands began to disperse, heading down to the field to meet up with their kids.

  “We’re going out for dinner,” I told Willow as we waited for the stands to empty, “you wanna come?”

  Her lips pursed in thought and she eventually nodded. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

  “It’ll be like old times.”

  She laughed and tilted her head back slightly to look at me. “Not that old, Dean. You make it sound like I’ve been gone forever.”

  Feels like it.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” I mumbled, ducking my head.

  The stands finally cleared enough for us to step into the aisle.

  My hand settled at the top of her waist and I felt her body stiffen.

  “Oh, sorry.” I let my hand fall.

  She glanced back at me and her cheeks were stained a light pink color.

  “It’s okay. You just startled me.” She tugged her bottom lip slightly with her teeth—a telltale sign that Willow was lying.

  I chose not to call her on it.

  We finally managed to make it onto the field and find Grace—who was running around to all her friends and screaming, “I love you! I’m gonna miss you! Stay in touch!” Girls were sentimental like that. Guys either didn’t say anything or just said see you later.

  When my mom finally corralled her she made all of us pose for countless family pictures—even dragging W
illow into a bunch of them, because Willow was family even if it wasn’t by blood.

  “I can’t believe you’ll be headed off to college in the fall,” my mom cried, straightening a piece of Grace’s hair. “Why’d you have to grow up so fast?”

  “Mom,” Grace groaned, becoming embarrassed by mom’s theatrics.

  My dad wrapped an arm around my mom’s waist and pulled her against him. Kissing her forehead he said, “Olivia, you’re embarrassing her.”

  “I’m her mother, that’s my job,” she reasoned, making all of us laugh.

  “Should we go eat?” My dad asked.

  My mom looked up at him, fighting a smile. “Is that code for you’re hungry?”

  “Yep.” He nodded.

  “I have to return my gown,” Grace said, “and then I can meet you in the parking lot.”

  Willow stepped forward. “I can wait and you can ride with me,” she said to Grace. To my parents she added, “If that’s okay with you guys?”

  “Of course.” My mom nodded. “We’ll see you guys there.”

  My parent’s and Linc headed off the field—and I knew I should follow, but I lingered.

  “You don’t have to babysit us,” Grace laughed, eyeing me.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets and rocked on the balls of my feet. “I knooow.” I drew out the word.

  Willow giggled and exchanged a look with Grace. “Dean, I know you have a crush on me and all, but we’re about to spend a lot of time together on the road. I think you can be without me until we get to the restaurant.”

  I paled and my mouth fell open in shock.

  “Whaaa?”

  Willow and Grace both laughed and linked their arms together before strolling away.

  Neither seemed to care that I stood there frozen.

  Girls were evil.

  ***

  It felt like forever before Willow and Grace came giggling into the restaurant.

  They both wore devious little smiles and I was a bit afraid.

  They joined us at the table and picked up the waiting menus.

  The restaurant was a local one, but upscale—with dark wood trim and stone. I noticed several other tables occupied by the graduating class. They were easily distinguishable with their youthful smiling faces and excited chatter…and the fact that many of them still wore their caps also made them easy to pick out from the crowd.

  Once our orders were placed my mom turned to Willow and asked her about college.