• • •

I wake up with the fizz of nervous anticipation that tells me today's the day. Even when Gray and I first decided to take this trip, I wasn't sure it would ever happen. I thought it would be one of those things best friends talk about, fantasizing about an epic cross-country drive, but never get around to. After initially planning to go right after our finals, we had to postpone it and I was sure that would be the end of it.

But now the day is here. Exactly one month before we start our sophomore year at South Lakes College. It's time for Gray and me to take on the country, one step at a time.

When my fizzing nerves subside, giving way to a blossoming excitement, I roll out of bed and take a moment to make myself look a little more presentable. It's been so hot this July that I've had the window wide open every night, exchanging my comforter for a top sheet and pajamas for none. I wake up to a warm room, the sun pouring through my window, and the realization that it's nine o'clock already.

Our first stop is a low key night with Kris in Cleveland, only ninety minutes away, so we're not leaving until way later, but I still feel like I've slept in too late. Gray has probably been up since six, excited and planning and buzzing. It's a wonder he didn't wake me up too, but I appreciate the lie-in. I crashed at ten o'clock last night, before anyone else had gone to bed and eleven hours later, I'm probably the last to wake.

The house is quiet as I head downstairs, passing my favorite photo hanging halfway up the stairs: a candid of Mom and Tad's wedding day, minutes after their marriage was made official. They're kissing beneath a floral arch; Kris and I are hugging, and Gray is mid-jump, his tie flying over his shoulder and a look of ecstasy on his face.

It never fails to make me smile.

"Morning!"

I hear Gray before I see him. He's standing in front of the kitchen window, slightly swaying, with a tiny, quiet baby in his arms. I grin at the two of them and head straight for them, stroking Jasper's soft baby head, the thick crop of black hair he was born with.

"Guess who's a month old today?" Gray grins at me and then Jasper. "A whole month!"

"How's my little Jazzy Pear?" I coo down at him, scooping him out of Gray's arms. He's so soft and delicate, his little body snuggling against me when I cradle him. "Have you been up long?"

"Only a couple of hours," Gray says with a laugh. "This is like Christmas morning – how am I supposed to sleep when I'm so excited for today?" He uses his newfound freedom to put on the kettle and root out a few mugs and plates. "Dad's gone to get some stuff for breakfast."

"And Mom?"

"In the shower, I think," he says, jumping back when he opens the dishwasher and it steams up at him. I take a seat, instinctively swaying with the baby in my arms. When he yawns, his whole face scrunches up, his tiny nose wrinkling. He may only be a few weeks old, but he looks exactly like Gray. I snuggle him closer and inhale his sweet baby smell. It's enough to calm any residual nerves that linger at the back of my mind, though it'll make it harder to leave for a whole month.

Once Gray has laid the table, he takes Jasper from me and bounces him, grinning and cooing. He's a natural. I think his childish disposition helps. He's just a big kid himself.

At the same moment that I hear Tad's car pull in outside, Mom comes down in leggings and one of Tad's shirts, a strangely endearing sight. She's squeezing her hair out with a hand towel. When she sees us, her absent expression morphs into joy and she drops the towel on a chair. Gray turns around, beaming.

"Hey, look, it's Mommy!" he says to Jasper, handing him over to Mom when she reaches for him, hugging Gray as she takes the baby and kisses both his cheeks.

"Hi, baby! Are you having fun down here with your brother and sister?" she asks, wearing the most infectious smile. The Mom I see in front of me now and the one she was when we moved here are two different people. Gone are her tired eyes and thin limbs, her tears and her fainting. Her nights may be restless once more, but for an entirely different reason. It isn't grief that keeps her up at night, but her son.

Jasper was a surprise. To put it lightly.

Mom thought she was going through the menopause for months. She was sad about it, and dreading the side effects she had read about. She put her weight gain down to the fact that she was trying to gain weight and in the midst of wedding planning, she didn't think too much about it. It was only a week after she and Tad got married that she realized she was pregnant, already six months along.

That was when she went into panic mode, worrying that something would go wrong, that it had been twenty years since she'd last been pregnant, that forty-six was too old to have a baby. But for all her fussing, she refused all the tests. She didn't want to know if anything was wrong. It wouldn't change anything, she said, so there was no point, but it might have saved her three months of stress.

Jasper was born perfectly healthy on the twenty-second of June. He and Mom stayed in the hospital for a few days, in a private room that Kris insisted on paying for, and Mom was in no state to argue that. It was such a weird day, to go from eating breakfast with her, with such a small bump that I was sure the doctor was wrong about Jasper's due date, to having a brother by dinnertime.

We were on the beach when she went into labor. She was convinced that it would be another week or so – she had her mind set on the thirtieth – and she wanted to be distracted as she wound closer to her due date. Gray and I were floating in the lake and Tad was napping when Mom's waters broke and she lost the page of the book she was reading. She was insistent that she had plenty of time, that we didn't need to rush to the hospital only to sit around for ten hours.

Tad disagreed. That was the firmest I've ever seen him, when he told Mom that he didn't want to take any chances, so the four of us bundled into the car and Jasper made it pretty clear he wasn't going to wait around. We were only there for a couple of hours before he screamed his way into the world.

There was a surreal moment when Gray and I were playing endless rounds of snap in the waiting room to distract ourselves, and then Tad was there, red-eyed and crying. My first thought was that something had gone wrong, a hundred awful scenarios racing through my mind in the time it took him to tell us to come and meet our brother.

Mom was exhausted, hair scraped off her sweaty forehead. She cried when we came in; I cried when I saw Jasper for the first time, when Tad leant over Mom and kissed her, when he told her how strong she was and how proud he was.

He has said that a lot in the past four weeks, the soft words always accompanied by a gentle smile, a murmur in her ear; a hand on her waist and a kiss. He also said I told you so a fair few times, tutting at her for not wanting to head straight to the maternity wing.

It's hard to believe a whole month has passed since then, a month of nights disturbed by a crying baby and the creaking floorboards that signal someone trying to shush him. Since Tad and Gray officially moved in at the start of the year and sold their house in February – to a sweet old couple who mind their own business except to coo over Jasper – there's been no haven next door to escape to for a bit of peace and quiet.

Mom sits down to feed Jasper and when Tad comes through the front door with breakfast, he makes a beeline for them, pressing Jasper between his chest and Mom's when he kisses her. Only after he's greeted them, nuzzling his face in Jasper's hair, does he even seem to notice Gray and me. He and Mom are both in a baby bubble at the moment.

"Hey, guys," he says as he unloads two bags of groceries. "Big day today, huh?" He beams at us. I see so much of Gray in that grin. "Excited?"

"So excited," Gray says. "I've been dreaming about this trip for years and now I finally get to go on it with my favorite person." He slings an arm around my shoulders and squashes his cheek against mine.

Tad laughs. "I'll let that one slide," he says, shaking his head. When he has unpacked everything, he sits next to Mom and plays with Jasper's hair.

"Reckon you guys will be alright without our invaluable help and wisdom?" Gray asks, taking over from his dad to get a pan on the stove for bacon and eggs. I set about pouring four glasses of orange juice, and decaf coffee for Mom

Tad purses his lips. "I don't know," he muses, looking up at Mom. "Do you think we can make it a month without our cut-price babysitters?"

She just laughs and rolls her eyes. "I think we can make it," she says. "We may be out of practice, but we know what we're doing, don't we?"

"You're an incredible mom," he says. "Our son's in the best hands."

Gray adopts a catwalk pose and says, "If you need evidence of Dad's parental capabilities, look no further. The finest specimen is right here. I am living proof that you can drop a child several times and they'll still turn out to be a genius who gives your life purpose."

"You were a very wriggly child," Tad says. "It was like you wanted to be dropped."

Gray snorts. "Father of the year right there, ladies and gentlemen," he says, but before his words can be taken too rudely, he hugs his dad. They're the same height – Gray may even have half an inch on his dad – and Tad notices it.

"Hard to believe you were ever that small, huh?" He nods at Jasper and then ruffles Gray's hair. "You were such a fussy baby. Such a diva." He laughs. "You were never settled unless you were in my arms, you know. For a while, we thought something might be wrong, but you were just an attention seeker."

"Sounds about right," I say, grinning when Gray shoots me a dirty look.

"Luckily, I think Jasper takes after his sister," Mom says. That word still makes me feel funny, in a good way. Kris has called me his sister for years; Gray has used the word for months. They're my brothers, as far as I see. But now it feels all the more real. There's another person in the world who shares my mom. My family tree has grown. "All Storie cared about was food and sleep. Such an easy baby."

"Not much has changed," I add. Mom laughs, and the sound lights up the world.

• • •

After we've eaten and Tad is reading with Jasper asleep on his chest, Mom comes into my room while I'm packing a final few things for the trip. For a moment, she hovers in the doorway until I feel her presence and when I look up at her, she smiles.

"Hi, bogárkám," she murmurs, slipping into the room and sitting on the end of my bed with her hands clasped between her knees.

"Hey, Mom."

"Do you have a moment?"

"I've got plenty," I say, sitting back on my heels in the middle of my room. "Are you ok?"

Her smile tells me that she is, as does her nod. "I just wanted to talk, before you go away." When she pats the bed, I join her and she takes my hand. "I'm so excited for you to take this trip, honey. I know how much you need it."

There's so much weight behind her words. I take a deep breath and nod.

"Yeah, I do," I say, "but it's gonna be weird. I've never been away from home for more than, like, five days." Five days I spent with Liam, I can't help but think. Over the past six months, I've come to realize that I seriously underestimated what it would take to get over him.

"I know." Mom's voice is soft, her hands warm on mine. "I won't pretend it isn't going to be strange, not having you and Gray around for a whole month, but I know you two will have an incredible time. I just wanted to say ... well, I know I'm a broken record, but I need you to know how proud you make me. I couldn't be prouder to be your mom, Storie. I am so blessed to have you as my daughter."

Her words make me tear up a little. I blink to control my emotions. Mom lets out a quiet laugh.

"You've blown me away this year," she says, squeezing my hand a little tighter. "This has been such a rollercoaster and I truly never believed we'd be here. I never thought I'd marry again; I never thought I'd have another child, but ... this has been a crazy year of change, and you haven't faltered once."

I'm about to contradict her but she doesn't give me the time or space to put myself down.

"There have been times I've been scared," she says, the admission a painful one to hear, "but seeing you thrive has helped me so much, bogárkám. I was terrified when I found out I was going to have Jasper – I was worried for you, and I didn't want to upset our apple cart. But you have taken everything in your stride, and I can't wait to see what the future holds for you."

She pulls me into a hug without letting me say anything, but I don't know what to say. I just hug her back until I manage to utter the words, "Thanks, Mom."

"I don't know what I was scared of," she says when she lets go and pats my knee. "You're my little trooper. Now, go and see the country. The whole world is waiting for you, baby."

• • •

Gray and I haven't figured out an official driving schedule, but he's driving this short first leg of the trip. I still can't believe he managed to get his license in time, especially after seeing him behind the wheel for the first time. He's come on in leaps and bounds, with this trip as his incentive to figure out how to drive.

It's almost five by the time we eventually leave, having showered Mom and Tad and Jasper with hugs and kisses and promises of plenty of photographs. Before we know it, we're back in our usual routine. The two of us, alone in the car. But the roles are reversed. It's strange not to be driving when that has always been my responsibility.

"So far, so good," Gray says as we drive along the shore of Lake Erie, not far from Cleveland.

"One hour down; four weeks to go," I tease.

"I don't know how you drive, like, four times this much every day."

"I'm used to it," I say. "I like driving." That didn't used to be true, but I've realized I like being behind the wheel. Maybe I just like being in control, knowing exactly where I'm going and how. Maybe it's just because I never had a choice.

We're not far from Kris's apartment when Navya sends Gray an overly excited and slightly inappropriate text that she probably didn't mean for me to see, wishing us the best of luck on our trip and mourning the fact that she won't get to see him for a few weeks. Except in far more words, and far more visual.

They've been going strong for more than eight months now, their relationship a reliable comfort. My underlying feeling isn't one of envy as much as it is a wistful recognition that I had that, that I could still have it, and a strange sorrow that I still miss it.

I really thought I'd be over Liam by now. We were together for nearly four months. It's been more than six since we broke up. But it's not as simple as an equation, and I still find myself missing him when my mind traces its fingers over his face. I thought that by now, he would have found someone else and it would help me to move on to see that he had too, but he hasn't.

He's still single, and living in a student house off campus. He was the only member of Theta Chi Theta to leave. The rest waited out the suspension and resumed business as usual when the investigation was dropped and they were let off with a warning. God knows what they'll do when college starts again next month. I dread to think, but I'm glad Liam's not a part of that anymore.

Thinking about him hurts. It makes me miss him, and what we had before it went south. I didn't realize I could fall so hard in love, and I didn't realize just how hard I'd fallen until I had to pick myself up.

"You ok?" Gray asks when the silence between us has lingered for a few minutes. He glances at me and I guess I must have developed some kind of I miss my ex and I can't stop thinking about him even though I ended it expression, because he puts his hand over mine.

"This trip is gonna be cathartic," he says. "By the end you'll be thinking Liam who? You might even meet your soulmate on the road. We're gonna be hitting, like, twenty-five states and a whole bunch of hostels and hotspots."

I laugh and roll my eyes at him, instantly feeling a bit better. I swear Gray has a magic power. "I don't particularly want to meet my soulmate if he lives in Oregon," I say. "That would seriously suck." I think for a moment and add, "I don't want to meet my soulmate at all. I just want to spend time with my brother and see the country. I'm not ready for someone else"

We fall quiet again, slipping into a moment of contemplation, before Gray quietly says, "You still miss him."

"Yup."

"A lot?"

"More than I thought."

"Want to talk?"

"Someday," I say, "but not now. Not today. Not this month."

My phone buzzes with a text from Mom, a selfie with Tad and Jasper in the background and a message that says missing you already!! xxx mom. A moment later, a message from Kris pops up: a photo of a table set with three places and a bottle of wine, and a text saying ready for you two! can't wait to see you and gray and send you on your way.

We're almost there. A new song comes on as we cross the Cuyahoga River, Cleveland looming ahead of us. The skyline is bathed in an early evening glow as the sun begins its slow descent over the city, a palette of reds and oranges streaking across the sky, and my heart leaps to my throat at the beauty of the horizon. This is real. We're really doing this. We're striking out on our own to see the sun set in a different state each night.

I grip Gray's hand when we come off the Detroit-Superior bridge, sinking into the city.

"This month is for us," I say. I don't want to talk about last year. I don't want to think about it; I don't want to let my mind linger on him. I just want to give myself up to the open road. "This is our journey. Let's just see where we end up."

• • •

thank you so much for reading! this story meant the world to me when I wrote it and it is still so dear to me, and I am thrilled to share it with you guys ❤️