All the Bright Places

Theodore Freak?!! WTF?!
I look around but she isn’t anywhere.
“See you tomorrow,” he’s saying.
“Actually, I’ve got plans.”
He glances at my phone and then at me, giving me a look that’s hard to
read. “All right. That’s cool. Later then, Ultraviolet.”
“What did you call me?”
“You heard me.”
“School’s that way.” I point toward the building.
“I know.” And away he goes in the other direction.
Saturday. My house. I am on the phone with Jerri Sparks, the reporter from
the local paper, who wants to send someone out to take my picture. She says,
“How does it feel to know you’ve saved someone’s life? I know, of course,
about the terrible tragedy you suffered last year. Does this in any way give
you closure?”
“How would this give me closure?”
“The fact that you couldn’t save your sister’s life, but you were able to save
the life of this boy, Theodore Finch …”
I hang up on her. 
As if they are one and the same, and besides, I’m not the
one who saved a life
. Finch is the hero, not me. I’m just a girl pretending to be
a hero.
I am still seething by the time Ryan shows up, five minutes early. We walk
to the drive-in because it’s only a mile from my house. I keep my hands in the
pockets of my coat, but we walk with our arms bumping. It’s like a first date
all over again.
At the drive-in, we find Amanda and Roamer, who are parked in Roamer’s
78

---

car. He drives an enormous old Chevy Impala, which is as large as a city
block. He calls it the Party Car because it can fit about sixty-five people at
once.
Ryan opens the back door for me and I get in. Because the Impala is
parked, I’m fine being in there, even though it smells like smoke and old fast
food and, faintly, of pot. I’m probably incurring years of secondhand smoke
damage just sitting here.
The movie is a Japanese monster movie double feature, and before it starts,
Ryan, Roamer, and Amanda talk about how awesome college will be—
they’re all going to Indiana University. I sit thinking about Jerri Sparks and
New York and spring break and how bad I feel about blowing off Finch and
for being rude to him when he 
saved my life
. Wandering with him would be
more fun than this. Anything would be more fun than this.
The car is hot and fumy, even though the windows are open, and when the
second movie starts, Roamer and Amanda lie down flat in the enormous front
seat and go almost completely quiet. Almost. Every now and then I hear a
slurping, smacking sound as if they’re two hungry dogs lapping at the food
bowl.
I try watching the movie, and when that doesn’t work, I try writing the
scene in my mind. 
Amanda’s head pops up over the seat, her shirt hanging
open so that I can see her bra, which is baby blue with yellow flowers. Like
that, I can feel the image burning into my retinas, where it will remain forever.
…
There are too many distractions, and so I talk over the noise to Ryan, but
he’s more interested in sneaking his hand up my shirt. I’ve managed to make
it seventeen years, eight months, two weeks, and one day without having sex
in the backseat of an Impala (or anywhere, for that matter), so I tell him I’m
dying to see the view, and I push open the door and stand there. We are
surrounded by cars and, beyond that, cornfields. There is no view except up. I
tilt my head back, suddenly fascinated by the stars. Ryan scrambles after me,
and I pretend to know the constellations, pointing them out and making up
stories about each one.
I wonder what Finch is doing right now. Maybe he’s playing guitar
somewhere. Maybe he’s with a girl. I owe him a wander and, actually, a lot
more than that. I don’t want him to think I blew him off today because of my
so-called friends. I make a note to research where we should go next as soon
as I get home. (Search terms: 
unusual Indiana attractions, nothing ordinary
Indiana, unique Indiana, eccentric Indiana
.) I should also have a copy of the
map so I make sure I don’t duplicate anything.
Ryan puts his arm around me and kisses me, and for a minute I kiss him.
I’m transported back in time, and instead of the Impala, it’s Ryan’s brother’s
Jeep, and instead of Roamer and Amanda, it’s Eli Cross and Eleanor, and
79

---

we’re here at the drive-in seeing a double feature of 
Die Hard
.
Then Ryan’s hand is snaking its way up my shirt again, and I pull away.
The Impala is back. Roamer and Amanda are back. The monster movie is
back.
I say, “I hate to do this, but I have a curfew.”
“Since when?” Then he seems to remember something. “Sorry, V.” And I
know he’s thinking it’s because of the accident.
Ryan offers to walk me home. I tell him no, I’m good, I got this, but he
does it anyway.
“I had a great time,” he says on my front step.
“Me too.”
“I’ll call you.”
“Great.”
He leans in to kiss me good night and I turn just slightly so he’ll get my
cheek instead. He’s still standing there as I let myself inside the house.
80

---