All the Bright Places

VIOLET
March 10
My phone buzzes after third period, and it’s Finch. He tells me he’s waiting
outside, near the river. He wants to drive down south to Evansville to see the
Nest Houses, which are these huts woven out of saplings that were created by
an Indiana artist. They’re literally like birds’ nests for humans, with windows
and doors. Finch wants to see if there’s anything left of them. While we’re
down there, we can cross the Kentucky border and take pictures of ourselves,
one foot in Kentucky, one in Indiana.
I say, “Doesn’t the Ohio River run the entire border? So we’d have to stand
on a bridge—”
But he keeps right on like he doesn’t hear me. “As a matter of fact, we
should do this with Illinois, Michigan, and Ohio.”
“Why aren’t you on your way to class?” I’m wearing one of his flowers in
my hair.
“I got expelled. Just come out here.”
“Expelled?”
“Let’s go. I’m wasting gas and daylight.”
“It’s four hours to Evansville, Finch. By the time we get there, it’ll be
dark.”
“Not if we leave now. Come on, come on, get on out here. We can sleep
there.” He is talking too fast, as if everything depends on us looking at nest
houses. When I ask him what happened, he just says he’ll tell me later, but he
needs to go now, as soon as possible.
“It’s a Tuesday in winter. We’re not sleeping in a nest house. We can go
Saturday. If you wait for me after school, we can go somewhere a little closer
than the Indiana-Kentucky border.”
“You know what? Why don’t we just forget it? Why don’t I go by myself? I
think I’d rather go alone anyway.” Through the phone, his voice sounds
hollow, and then he hangs up on me.
I’m still staring at the phone when Ryan walks past with Suze Haines, hand
in hand. “Everything okay?” he says.
“Everything’s fine,” I answer, wondering what on earth just happened.
174

---

175

---