By the third morning of our final road trip before graduation, I was standing beside a dead Jeep in a Nevada desert town while my boyfriend handed me a six-hour bus ticket and explained why everyone else deserved the last four seats in our remaining SUV more than I did.

Chapter 1

There were five of us: Drew, my boyfriend of three years; Seth and Dean, two guys we’d known since middle school; Kayla, my closest friend since freshman year; and me. We had spent months planning a two-car loop through the high desert before graduation scattered us across different cities and careers. It was supposed to be our grand farewell to college, two thousand miles of open highway, roadside diners, national parks, terrible playlists, and stories we’d tell when we were sixty.

Then the alternator died in the Cherokee.

The mechanic said he could fix it, but not for at least two days. Our other vehicle, Drew’s SUV, technically seated five, but it was packed with camping equipment, suitcases, coolers, and photography gear. Instead of reorganizing, Drew came back from the bus station with a ticket in his hand.

“Six hours,” he said. “Straight shot to the next town. You never get carsick, so you’re the obvious choice.”

Kayla immediately reached for her canvas bag. “I’ll go. June shouldn’t have to sit by herself all day.”

Seth caught her wrist. “Absolutely not. You threw up twice yesterday.”

Dean nodded. “That mountain road already wrecked you. Six hours on a bus would be brutal.”

Drew smiled at me as though the decision had been made by science instead of convenience. “June’s tough. She can handle anything.”

There had been a time when those words made me proud.

June can handle it.

June doesn’t mind.

June’s low-maintenance.

June always figures things out.

I had worn those sentences like medals without realizing they were permissions. Every time I accepted the bad chair, the late pickup, the forgotten order, or the changed plan, I trained the people I loved to believe inconveniencing me had no cost.

I took the ticket.

“Okay.”

Drew patted my shoulder twice. “That’s my girl. Text when you get there.”

Then he turned toward Kayla, his face brightening. “If we hurry, we can still catch golden hour at the salt flats.”

I stared at him. “You’re not driving straight to the motel?”

“Quick detour,” he said, already opening the driver’s door. “The bus doesn’t go near the flats anyway.”

Kayla gave me an apologetic little wave through the window.

The SUV disappeared into a shimmer of Nevada heat.

Forty minutes later, while the bus rattled down the interstate, I realized my wide-brimmed straw hat was still in Drew’s back seat.

I opened my phone to text him.

Instagram loaded first.

Kayla had posted a photograph from the salt flats. She was wearing my hat.

Drew was crouched in front of her, angling his phone upward for the perfect shot. Seth held an umbrella over her head. Dean carried her bag.

The caption said, “Full-time job serving our queen today.”

Three red hearts followed.

I looked at the text I had started typing.

Hey, I left my hat. Keep it safe?

I erased it.

The hat wasn’t expensive.

That was what I told myself.

At seven that evening, my bus finally reached the little desert town where we’d booked rooms. I dragged my suitcase three blocks to the boutique motel.

The desk clerk looked up my reservation and frowned.

“Honey, this was canceled around three this afternoon.”

I blinked. “Canceled?”

“Yes. Someone from your party said the itinerary changed.”

I checked the group chat.

Nothing.

I called Drew.

He answered after several rings. Music pounded in the background, and I heard Kayla laughing.

“June! You made it.”

“Where are you?”

“Silverton.”

I stared across the motel lobby.

“Silverton is two hours away.”

“Yeah, we ran into some hikers who told us there’s an indie festival here tonight. So we figured, why not?”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

A pause.

Then Drew said, “Wait, nobody told you?”

Seth shouted from somewhere behind him, “I thought Dean texted her.”

Dean immediately yelled, “I thought Drew did.”

They laughed.

It wasn’t cruel laughter. That was almost worse.

They genuinely found it funny.

Drew came back on the line. “Look, find a room there tonight. We’ll grab you tomorrow morning. Nine sharp.”

The motel was sold out.

The clerk found me a room at an aging motor lodge almost a mile away. I dragged my fifty-pound suitcase up three flights because the building had no elevator.

After showering, I checked my phone.

Kayla had posted a photograph of ribs, fries, and beer covering a picnic table.

Wish June were here!

Seth responded, We’ll make it up to her tomorrow.

Dean added, She’s not picky anyway.

Drew reacted with a laughing emoji.

I put my phone facedown.

At 11:52 p.m., Drew texted.

Be outside at 9 sharp. Don’t oversleep.

I replied:

Okay.

The next morning I was sitting on my suitcase at 8:40.

Nine came.

Nine-thirty.

At 10:07, Drew finally answered.

His voice was thick with sleep.

“What’s up?”

“You were supposed to pick me up at nine.”

Silence.

“Damn. Totally forgot.”

I closed my eyes.

He explained that Kayla’s stomach had acted up around midnight, so the three guys had spent hours finding an open pharmacy for her.

“How is she?” I asked automatically.

“Better. Listen, it doesn’t make sense for us to drive back. Today’s trail is near our hotel. Just take a shuttle up here.”

In the background, Kayla said softly, “Maybe we should go get her.”

Seth answered before Drew could. “You’re sick. Sit down.”

Dean added, “June can manage a shuttle.”

Drew lowered his voice. “You’re not mad, right?”

“No.”

“Good. Knew you’d understand.”

Three hours later, I reached the park visitor center.

The four of them were eating lunch.

Four baskets.

Four drinks.

No fifth meal.

Kayla looked up brightly. “You made it!”

Seth checked his watch. “Took you long enough. We’re losing half the afternoon.”

Nobody had ordered anything for me.

Kayla pushed half her sandwich forward.

Drew stopped her.

“You need that. June can grab something at the general store.”

I bought the last dried-out turkey wrap in the refrigerator and ate it alone on a stone wall.

Later, we stopped at a scenic overlook. Kayla wanted photographs. Seth fetched her umbrella. Dean brushed dirt from her skirt. Drew took off his flannel and wrapped it around her shoulders because she said the wind was cold.

A tourist offered to photograph all five of us.

The four of them moved together instinctively.

I stood at the edge.

That night, the lodge discovered a reservation problem. Only one king room and two double rooms remained.

Drew didn’t hesitate.

“Kayla gets the king. She needs to rest.”

Seth looked at me. “You can bunk with me and Dean. We’ll get a cot.”

I stared at him.

“You want me to sleep with two guys?”

Drew sighed. “June, don’t turn this into a thing.”

The desk clerk mentioned a hostel ten minutes away.

“I’ll go there.”

Nobody offered to drive me.

Halfway down the road, rain started.

I pulled up my hood and kept walking.

When I reached the hostel soaked and exhausted, a young woman sitting on the porch jumped up to help me carry my suitcase inside.

“Traveling alone?” she asked.

“With friends.”

She looked toward the empty road.

“They’re somewhere else?”

“Yeah.”

She didn’t ask anything more. She simply handed me a bottle of cold water.

That night, I realized I had forgotten to tell the group I arrived safely.

I checked my phone.

Nobody had asked.

The next morning, when I returned to the lodge, Drew was waiting beside the SUV.

He held out his phone.

An eleven o’clock shuttle ticket glowed on the screen.

“Three hours to the next valley,” he said. “I already bought it.”

Kayla started climbing out of the passenger seat.

“No. June takes my seat today.”

All three men stopped her.

“You’ll get sick,” Seth said.

“Those switchbacks will destroy you,” Dean added.

Drew pulled her gently back into the SUV.

“I’m not putting you on a public shuttle when you’re sick.”

Something inside me became completely still.

Two days earlier, he’d put me on a six-hour bus without hesitation.

I looked at him.

“I’m not taking the shuttle.”

Everyone froze.

Drew’s face hardened.

“Don’t pick now to throw a tantrum.”

For three years, those words had terrified me.

Don’t make this a thing.

Don’t be dramatic.

Don’t throw a tantrum.

I had spent years trying to prove I wasn’t difficult.

That morning, I stopped trying.

“You guys go ahead.”

Kayla stared at me. “What will you do?”

“I’ll figure something out.”

Seth actually smiled in relief.

“See? June always figures it out.”

The SUV pulled away.

Through the rear window, beneath Kayla’s luggage, I saw my straw hat crushed against the glass.

I didn’t chase them.

I went back into the lobby, canceled every remaining reservation in my name, and opened an email I had received two weeks earlier from a consulting firm in Denver.

I had already turned down their job offer once because Drew wanted us to remain in our college town.

My circumstances, I suddenly realized, had changed.

I typed:

If the associate consultant position is still available, I would like to accept.

The response arrived four minutes later.

It is. We’d be thrilled to have you.

I booked a one-way flight home.

For the first time on the entire trip, nobody else knew where I was going.