“Then we better hurry,” I said.

I backed off as she turned to me.

“Really?” Her smile was as wide as my own. “If we die doing this, it's your fault.”

We headed toward the tower, and I almost held her hand. The road beyond the overpass turned to dirt. Mud hadn't yet formed, but dust had collected around drops that sprinkled the road. Great hickory trees lined our walk on either side. They left their brown and green nuts in the gutters, soon to rot in the rain. I felt far from the world, like I-70 was already miles behind and there was nothing here of society but a distant water tower that grew no closer with any step.

“When do you head off for Ohio State?” I didn't want to ask, but I had to.

“I don't know yet. Too soon though.”

Maybe there was hope.

“You could take a gap year with me,” I said. “Everyone's moving. If you go too, I'll wind up only having Pete.”

“What do you mean? You'll still have Bailey and Mickey.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.”

There was something up ahead in the middle of the road. I barely took note, but Tilly seemed transfixed.

“Is that another cinder block?” she asked.

“Yeah, I guess so.” I squinted. “Come on, they're not that interesting. Hell, I'll take Bailey's side on this one.”

“Where do you think they came from?”

“What?” I laughed. “Cinder blocks? I don't know—The Mystical Realm of Cinder?”

“Alright, fine! It just seems weird that it's in the road. Should we move it?”