“We’re both adopted,” Meg says, and Jasper rolls his eyes, and jokes, “I was just about to figure that out. I mean, I was this close.”
He takes a bite of his burger and chews and swallows and then says, “So you graduated. Awesome. Now what?”
“I’m going to Lewis and Clark,” Meg says.
“I’m going to RISD.”
“Whoa,” he says. “RISD. That’s major.”
Bev blushes, seems proud, and it’s the first time I realize that it is a pretty big deal. I wonder if, when the college counselor tried to impress upon her the importance of going straight to school, instead of talking to her about tulips, Bev started talking about art school. Or if it came later. If it was her parents who had the idea. Or if all along, this is what she wanted.
“I’m still in high school,” Alexa says. “One more year. And then I think I’ll probably stay in the city and go to college and get a couple of jobs. There are a lot of things I want to do. I’m going to have to start prioritizing.”
“She has this really cool list—Lex, show him—of jobs she wants to have,” Meg says.
Alexa takes out her notebook and hands it to Jasper, who flips through it in awe. But Alexa doesn’t notice his reaction, because she’s intent on Meg.
“You think it’s cool?” she asks.
“Of course,” Meg says. “It’s so cool.”
“But you always make fun of it.”
“Oh my God,” Meg says. “Don’t take me so seriously.”
Alexa beams. When Jasper hands her the notebook back, she holds it like it’s a thing of tremendous value. Which it is. It must be great knowing that if something doesn’t work out, you have hundreds of backup plans.
Now they’re all looking at me—all of them but Bev—because I’m the only one who hasn’t answered yet.
I think about telling him that I’m taking a gap year, or something simple and closer to the truth, like, I don’t know.
Instead I say, “Bev and I were supposed to go to Europe for a year, but instead she decided to go to college without telling me.”
“Oh,” Jasper says. “Hmm.”
I feel bad for making him feel awkward, but I’m not going to pretend that things are fine when they’re not. So I go on.
“Yeah,” I say. “She told me yesterday. We were supposed to leave next week. She hasn’t told me why yet, though.”
Bev is staring at the table, not saying a word.
“Why, Bev?” I ask.
“Really?” she says, looking up at me. “You want me to tell you this now?” I can’t remember ever hearing her voice sound this way: broken and angry.
“Actually,” I say, “I wanted you to tell me yesterday. And a few months ago would have been even better.”
“Jasper,” Meg says, all loud and dramatic like she’s onstage. “What do you do? Besides giving spectacular tattoos, of course.”
“I have a lot of money saved,” Jasper says. “I’m just waiting for the right opportunity to present itself. I heard there’s some reality show where a guy travels around the country in an RV and gives random people tattoos. Doing something like that would be cool. To tell you the truth I’d do just about anything to get out of here,” he says. “I was thinking about college. For a little while. But no one in my family’s been, and I don’t know. I had my place waiting for me at the shop. But maybe someday,” he says.
Bev picks up her tray and heads to the trash, and soon Alexa is pronouncing it time for us to go, and I’m feeling a little better to be in the company of someone who seems to have his shit together only slightly more than I do, considering that yeah, he has a skill and a job, but he isn’t satisfied and doesn’t know how to change that.
“San Francisco,” he says to me. “At least if you have to change your plans, you’ll be doing it there.”
“Yeah,” I say. “True.” Because I know San Francisco’s a great place to live and that I’m lucky to have a house to return to and parents to pay the bills and a million shows to choose from on any night of the week and things to sketch everywhere, and it would be a jackass move to turn to someone who doesn’t seem to have any of that and say, But I want something else. Which is exactly how I feel.
We walk back to the tattoo parlor, to the bus, and say good-bye to Jasper. He says he’ll call when he talks to his boss about the bird tattoo.
“I think that something is going to come out of this,” Alexa says. “Something important.”
“Well, I hope so,” Jasper says. “I mean, what are the chances that you guys would end up in Fort Drag and decide to get a tattoo and come here and pick up one of the oldest look-books and find a tattoo that one of your moms made?”
“It’s a mystery,” Meg says.
“Hell yeah, it is. But don’t worry, I’m going to figure it out.”
Jasper steps back from the bus.
“Meg, take care of that tattoo. No Saran Wrap,” he says, and then, to me: “I’ll call you later, bro.”
Meg wants to drive. Bev climbs into the passenger seat. I sit in the row behind them, off to the side, and Alexa lies down in the back row.
Meg pulls the bus away slowly, and when I glance in the rearview mirror I can see Jasper outside the shop, taking his time walking up the stairs, only reaching the door as the road curves and we leave him behind.