Kids These Days

Chapter 51: Finn

"We survived the summer," Andy declares. "This calls for margaritas."

It's the night before I head back to Indiana, and to go out with a bang, we've returned to our favorite dive bar, the Prickly Cactus. The bouncer doesn't even bat an eye at our fakes, but he does make everyone unzip their jackets and open their bags because apparently there was a "firearms incident" the month before. Oops.

Ronan sits across from me in the same booth where Rachel once told us that there's always a price to pay. He squeezes a lime into his Corona and winks at me when I catch his eye. I grin back, ignoring the knowing look that passes between Andy and Talia. So what if I'm being obvious? This is our last night together, and I'm going to enjoy it while I can.

"A round of lemon margaritas for the table," Becca calls to the waiter. Oliver raises his eyebrows at her, and she amends, "Make those frozen lemon margaritas, please."

Oliver gives her an approving nod and signs, We have standards at this table.

The waiter rolls his eyes at our obviously underage group and heads over to the bar, where a trio of motorcyclists fresh off the highway are throwing back pitchers of Bud Light as if the meaning of life might be found in the dregs. Sitting with them is a blonde lady who has apparently mastered the art of balancing a beer bottle and a lit cigarette in the same hand. She gives Ronan a weird look, as if she recognizes him from somewhere, and then tips her drink at me with a grin.

As if I'm supposed to know whatever the hell that means. Mystified, I turn back to my friends. Ronan and Oliver are messing around with the cribbage board, undeterred by the fact that it's missing most of its pegs, and the girls are scratching their initials into the soft varnish of the table. We laugh and joke around until the drinks arrive, at which point Andy insists that we do a toast and share something we're proud of from this summer: "Because we're only seventeen once."

"I remember seventeen," Becca says. "It feels like a distant memory."

"Thanks for the reminder that you're eighteen and therefore older and wiser than us all," says Ronan. "You know, you're basically a relic now. They should put you in a museum."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment, Lockwood."

I glance across the table at Ronan, who's usually opposed to all displays of "sappy friendship bonding shit" (I'm paraphrasing here), but he seems to be enjoying himself. Or at least his lemon margarita. I smile to myself and take a sip of my own drink. Last summer, if you told me that Ronan and Becca would be sharing drinks at jokes at the same table, I'd probably laugh and ask who was holding them at gunpoint.

Oliver holds up his margarita. I can go first, he signs, speaking at the same time so everyone can understand. It's about time I broke the news. This summer, I got accepted into Emberly's College for the Deaf. He finger-spells the name, E-M-B-E-R-L-Y, but I still don't recognize it. Fancy school on the east coast. Anyway, I was undecided for a while because of the cost, but I just found out I qualify for a full ride, so... He pauses to take another sip of his drink. I'll be going there this fall.

The entire table looks stunned, including Andy. "Wow. Oliver, that's... I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner," she says. She fidgets with one of the cribbage pins, the red washed-out glow of the jalapeno string lights making it difficult to tell if she's excited or upset. "This is a big deal. I mean, Joyce just got that check in the mail to pay off the mortgage, and now you qualify for scholarship... I just really can't believe it."

I only found out this morning, Oliver signs back, his expression a bit defensive.

"I know. I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm proud of you, I really am. You deserve this." Andy reaches over and squeezes Oliver's hand. He wrinkles his nose at the gesture, as any younger sibling would, but I can see his face brighten at her words. "It's about time the Hill family had a stroke of good luck."