Goodbye Yellow Brick Road ✔︎

31 | Fate's Backup Plan

|photo by Vincent Ledvina from Unsplash|

It takes me a week to decide to send Glenn a message. And then another week to figure out what to say. I keep it simple: My flight arrives at 7:04 p.m. on the 20th. I'll meet you on your front porch at 9:30.

His reply doesn't come until the next morning: Okay. And this time it only takes me a few minutes to get over being mad about the one-word answer. Because what else can he say? I didn't give him a choice.

I text Megan the details while I'm sitting on the bleachers watching six buff boy-bodies race across the pool. Good, she replies. You've played this well.

It's not a game. :|

Don't be so sensitive. You know what I mean.

And you know how hard this is for me, right? For the first time in my life, I don't know what I want.

You want a degree from Virginia Tech, she reminds me. You want to work for NASA. You want your parents to retire and sell the farm to you and Glenn so the two of you can live in the big house and have two-to-four children—who you swear you will not name after dead relatives.

The obnoxiously loud buzzer commands my attention. I didn't realize the team was having a trial race today. My phone rings. "No fair ignoring me," Megan says when I answer.

"I'm watching a race. Conner's about to win."

"It's loud," she says.

"I'm not the only swim-team groupie."

"Did you read my text?"

Conner does his flip and turn. "Hold on," I say. "Last lap." She blows a sigh of protest but I ignore her. I can't take my attention away from him. He's way ahead of the rest of the team. Just him and the clock now.

Someone behind me starts stomping on the bleachers. I join in, let out a whoop.

I jump up, screaming when Conner touches the wall at 45:08—a few seconds faster than his Championship score last year. "You really need to come watch him," I say into the phone.

"I'd rather watch Chase."

"I'm sure that can be..." All six of them lift their glistening bodies out of the water—like some kind of synchronized olympic event. I don't think I'll ever get used to this.

"Okay, let's get back to reality," Megan says.

"You have my full attention." Not really, because the coach is pulling Conner aside to shake hands with another coach-looking guy and I'm all puffed up with pride.

"What are you going to do about Dorothy and The Scarecrow if you and Glenn get back together?" she asks.

Ugh. She has me now. Reality certainly does suck.

"I don't know, Megan. I'm a debutante. I applied to Cornell University—and Penn State. I am obviously having an existential crisis."

Megan goes silent for a moment. I've surprised her. "Well," she says, like she's shaking it off. "There's no off switch for unsatisfied lust. You need to have sex with Conner before you come home."

He picks this exact moment to turn and smile at me. Wow.

"This is exactly why Glenn broke up with you," she adds. "He wants you to get some experience."

"Oh, I don't think so. He just wants me to kiss a couple of frogs so I won't have any doubt that he's my prince."

"Is that all he did, kiss a few bee-yatches?"