Blog Amateur Instant

I was seventeen. I wanted to get lost. I wanted static on the radio and a boy in the backseat who wasn’t my little brother. But you don’t say that to a man who cried when they discontinued his favorite brand of canned chili.

“Gas is low,” Mom said softly. “Back is sixty miles.” blog amateur

But Dad looked at the map. Then at the road. Then at the gas gauge. For the first time in his entire life, he said something I didn’t expect. I was seventeen

“You knew,” he said.

The Summer the Map Ran Out of Ink Posted by: Margot | August 12th | Filed under: Growing Pains, Road Trips, Letting Go blog amateur

I shook my head. “I guessed.”