“I know you will.”
They drove away.
I stood on the porch long after the taillights disappeared.
The house suddenly felt painfully quiet.
I cleaned the kitchen.
Folded laundry.
Watched television without paying attention.
Every few minutes I checked my phone.
Around nine-thirty it buzzed.
MOM. YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED.
I smiled.
What happened?
A minute later another message arrived.
I’LL TELL YOU WHEN I GET HOME. IT’S CRAZY.
I laughed to myself.
Probably prom king.
Or someone had fallen into the fountain.
Teenagers always described everything as crazy.
I typed back:
Okay. Have fun. Be safe. Love you.
She never answered.
As the hours passed, an uneasy feeling settled over me.
Midnight came.
No car.
No text.