Page 47 of Wayfarers

You say yes. Of course

you say yes.

Knox

“Yes,” I call to Sylvie’s back. “Of course yes.”

Knox

“So who were you in high school?” Sylvie asks after about ten minutes on the road.

“What do you mean?”

“Like what was your vibe? Who did you hang out with?”

I consider lying again but remember my commitment to myself. “I want you to brace yourself for what I’m about to tell you.”

Sylvie wiggles in her seat and grips the wheel tightly. “Okay, I’m thoroughly braced.”

“I didn’t go to high school. I was homeschooled. Actually, I think the most accurate term is ‘unschooled.’”

“I’ve heard that phrase, but what is it exactly?”

“No classes, no curriculum. No textbooks. No tests. You just go where your curiosity takes you and learn. All very free and unstructured.”

“And?”

I look at Sylvie.

“Was it awesome?” she asks. “Were you living the dream?”

“Um. Was it awesome. Hmm. I . . . no. It wasn’t. There were positive aspects to it, I guess? But on the whole? No.”

“It worked. You seem super smart.”

“With massive Avatar and Princess Bride–shaped gaps.”

“Fair point.”

“So who were you in high school? Who was Sylvie?”

“The opposite, I guess. I was super scheduled. Big into piano. AP classes. Volunteering. Taking care of other people.”

“I figured out the taking-care-of-people part.”

“Yeah, I guess you might’ve.”

“Did you go to prom?”

Sylvie smiles wistfully at the road in front of us. “Briefly. We went and took pictures with our friends and left.”

“Who was your date?”

Sylvie, who wasn’t talking, somehow becomes quieter still. “My boyfriend at the time,” she says, after several seconds. What I hear coloring the edges of her voice tells me it’s best not to pry further. Am I jealous?

“I wish I got to go to prom,” I say to change the subject.

Sylvie brightens. “Really?”