Joanne Rock - Nights Under the Tennessee Stars

Which was why she couldn’t tell him about the letter that had arrived for her last week. She rested her hand on her purse where she’d tucked the note, wishing it would magically disappear.

Squinting in the dark at the sign for Chattanooga, she merged onto Interstate 24 East just as her phone rang. She prayed hard it wasn’t her father. Or the family she was supposed to be staying with while her dad worked. Or the school field trip chaperone who would probably get fired for losing track of Sarah during the overnight visit to the University of Florida in Gainesville.

“Bestie,” chirped the Bluetooth automated voice, reporting the contact in a way that had made Sarah and her best friend, Mathilda, laugh for an hour when they’d given all of Sarah’s friends nicknames in the address book.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed the connect button on the call so it came through the car speakers.

“Don’t be mad at me,” Sarah blurted, her eyes glued to the road and the taillights of a semi she’d been behind for nearly an hour.

“Are you insane?” Mathilda whisper-shouted. “Where are you?”

Sarah pictured her friend in the hotel room where she’d seen her last, sitting on the king-size bed they were supposed to be sharing on the field trip.

“If I don’t tell you, you’ll be able to answer honestly when Ms. Fairly grills you tomorrow about where I went.” She chewed her thumbnail. It had been practically impossible not to spill this plan to Mathilda, but she didn’t want her to get in trouble.

Sarah had caused Mathilda enough problems in the past two years, dragging her to parties she didn’t want to attend and convincing her to sneak out after their curfew so Sarah’s father wouldn’t know she wasn’t at home. Sarah couldn’t help that she liked to have more fun than Mathilda, but she’d been doing better lately. Behaving herself.

“That may be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said,” Mathilda hissed in the same urgent whisper. “I’m your best friend in the world, and if you’ve done something stupid, you need to tell someone about it so they know when to worry about you for real, Sarah.”

“See? That’s why it’s been so hard not to tell you the plan. You’re so smart and I knew you would think of all the details I forgot.” She was nervous enough about her decision to sneak away.

Students weren’t supposed to have cars on the campus for the trip, but Sarah had planned a week in advance, paying a boy to follow her all the way to Gainesville from Miami the weekend before so she could leave the car in the lot. Boys would do anything for the chance to attend a big-deal college basketball game, and Sarah had helped him do just that—although she’d probably also given him the impression she liked him, which she hadn’t meant to. Still, it had been a way to drop off her car ahead of time so she’d have it for her escape. She’d told her father she’d left it at Mathilda’s, not that he’d asked. He thought mostly about work these days.

“What plan?” Mathilda pressed. “Seriously, I love you, but I’m about a minute away from ratting you out because I’m scared you’re doing something dangerous. You know you’re not supposed to go running at night by yourself.”

If only it was that simple.

Sarah watched the trucker’s signal light flip on to pass the car ahead and she turned on hers, too. It was nice having someone to follow through the dark.

“Don’t tell on me. I’m eighteen now, you know.” The Stedders had made her a cake to celebrate when her father had been on a location shoot in Georgia a couple of weeks ago. “What can the school really do to me at this point?”

For a long time she’d been waiting for the day where no one could tell her no. Even with the careful planning and occasional sneaking out, she still felt suffocated by her father. After her mom had died, he’d taken a leave from his job for over a year. He’d spent the time staring at Sarah as though she was going to be the next person to be murdered. It was enough to creep anyone out. Worse, she missed the old him. He used to be so much fun.

“Do not play that ‘I’m eighteen’ card with me,” Mathilda huffed, probably mad her birthday was still six weeks away.

“Fine. I left a couple of hours ago right after you fell asleep. I’m driving to Tennessee to see Dad and help him on his business trip.” And hide from letters that arrived from state prison.

She hadn’t opened the one that her so-called biological father had sent. Ten times over, she’d debated just burning it and pretending it had never existed. But what if he’d already mentioned her to his cell mates the way he’d talked about her mom? Thanks to him, her mother was dead. And while the guys responsible were in jail for life, that didn’t mean her sperm-contributing relative would stop talking.

Bastard. Did he want her dead next?

“Does your dad know?” Mathilda referred to Remy, of course, who was Sarah’s father in every way that mattered.

“Of course not. He’s going to kill me when I get there, but I’m going anyway.”

The fact that Mathilda was silent for a few seconds reassured Sarah. If her friend thought it was the worst plan in the world, she would have berated Sarah instantly.

“I don’t know why you couldn’t have just asked to go with him and gotten permission. Ms. Fairly is going to flip out.”

Sarah slid back into the right-hand lane behind the truck, her GPS reassuring her that she’d make it to Heartache, Tennessee, in time for breakfast.

“But that’s where the plan gets really good.” She tucked a long, brown strand of hair behind one ear and wished she had an elastic to hold it back. “I’m going to arrive at Dad’s bed-and-breakfast before the morning orientation meeting at the hotel. I’ll have Dad call Ms. Fairly and tell her that he picked me up last night for— I don’t know. Urgent family reasons.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice.

“Sarah—”

“What?” she snapped, tired of tiptoeing around anything and everything that had to do with her mother’s death. “You know she’ll forgive him as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Poor Remy Weldon who lost his wife can do no wrong. Ms. Fairly practically drools on him every time she sees him.”

“It is gross,” Mathilda admitted.

“Agreed.” She rolled down her window for a little fresh air. She wasn’t tired, but she planned to take every precaution to make sure she didn’t feel sleepy. Two energy drinks rested side by side in her cup holders, but so far, adrenaline was keeping her going.

“Text me when you get there, okay? I have to know you arrived safely.”

Sarah’s throat itched from the sudden lump in it. Her friend didn’t try to “mother” her, but sometimes, when she said stuff like that, it made Sarah miss having a mom. It also made her super grateful she’d managed to keep one good friend during the hell of the past two years. She’d met Mathilda during a dark time in her life and Mathilda liked her anyway.

“Of course.” She cleared her throat and popped open one of the energy drinks.

“I can’t believe you’re not going to look at UF with me.” Mathilda wanted to be a Gator at the University of Florida in the fall, and she’d wanted Sarah to be one, too, but that wasn’t happening.

Sarah had no idea what she wanted to do. She’d spent half her high school years in mourning for her mom and then—later—for the dad who’d checked out on her, too. His parenting these past two years was a weird combo of being smothering or—lately—being absent. It sounded impossible, but he managed it well, sticking her with the Stedders, who were old enough to be her grandparents and twice as nosy. Then there were the freaked-out phone calls that came when he was away. Did he think she didn’t know he was terrified she’d get shot in the head someday, too, even though they’d moved nine hundred miles away from where her mom had died?