"Cindy. Cindy. Cindy. The trip was wonderful, yes.
The school has lots of incredible things—tools and cars they'd never
be able to get here. And the people were nice. Very nice. Mr.
Maloney, he went out of his way. Course, he did it for Parsons—he calls
her Holly. And it would only be two years, and then I'd come back
to Exeter. And I'd be home lots during that time too. It's not like
the end of the world."
"Josh, I'm going to UNH. Sixteen miles down the road.
I'm living at home. I thought you would go to Stratham Tech and
live here too. I thought that this was good enough for you. I
thought you cared about me." Cindy let her head fall against his
shoulder. He reached up to stroke her hair, but then caught himself.
"You make this sound like a test. What do you think? If
I choose Detroit, I don't choose you? That's not the way it is. Not
at all. Maybe if I choose Exeter then I end up a two-bit grease
monkey like Gus. And maybe that's not going to be good enough
for you. Maybe some hotshot will come along and show me up."
"Maybe you'll go to Detroit and I'll never see you
again. Maybe once you've seen the world, you'll decide that Exeter
isn't for you. Or maybe I won't be worldly enough for you. Doesn't
that scare you, Josh? Don't you worry, even a little bit?"
Josh moved, shaking Cindy's head off his shoulder.
He stood up and walked to the window. The New England spring
had taken ahold of the land and made it new—made it seem as if
anything were possible. And if that were true, if that were true,
then why was Josh so twisted up inside?
"Do we ever get any choices, Cindy? Any real choices?
I can choose Detroit Auto Tech, or Stratham. I can choose a
new life, without you, or a known life, with you. And I can't live
without you. So there is no choice."
"Then you'll stay here? With me?"
"I don't know, Cindy. I don't know. I've never had
any choices in my life. Oh, sure. Whether to go to Newington for
the movies, or watch something at the IOKA. But none that
really mattered. And this one does matter. I think it does."
"Sure. Me, or not me."
"It's not like that. It's you and Detroit. Or you and
Stratham Tech. It's you either way. That's what I think."
"Me, or not me. I think I've got to go home."
"It's early. I thought we might go to Newington for
a movie. Or the IOKA."
"I think, I don't think. . . . I've got a headache, that's
what. And I think I'll walk home—alone. Maybe the fresh air will
knock it out of my head. Good night, Josh." He turned from the
window, but she was already at the door and then gone. He stared at
the closed door but didn't move. Was it really that simple? Was it
really Cindy, or not Cindy? And if it were really that simple, did it
make any difference? What would life with Cindy, or without her, be
like? He couldn't think about it, either way. He went into the kitchen
and opened the refrigerator door.
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