Walking Disaster

behind the wheel, she drove it as if she were secretly borrowing someone’s Lamborghini.
    After two stops, she finally put the gearshift in Park, and turned off the engine.
    “We’ll have to get a parking sticker,” she said, checking the space on her side again.
    “Yes, Pidge. I’ll take care of it,” I said for the fourth time.
    I wondered to myself if I should have waited another week or so before adding the stress of a new car. We both knew by the end of the day that the school’s rumor mill would be spreading
the news of our marriage, along with a fictional scandal or two. Abby purposefully wore skinny jeans and a tight-fitting sweater to ward off the inevitable questions about a pregnancy. We might
have gotten married on the fly, but kids were a whole new level, and we were both content to wait.
    A few drops fell from the gray, spring sky as we started our trek to our classes across campus. I pulled my red ball cap low on my forehead, and Abby opened her umbrella. We both stared at
Keaton Hall as we passed, noting the yellow tape and blackened brick above each window. Abby grabbed at my coat, and I held her, trying not to think about what had happened.
    Shepley heard that Adam had been arrested. I hadn’t said anything to Abby, afraid that I was next, and that it would cause her needless worry.
    Part of me thought that the news about the fire would keep unwanted attention from Abby’s ring finger, but I knew that the news of our marriage would be a welcome distraction from the grim
reality of losing classmates in such a horrific way.
    Like I expected, when we arrived at the cafeteria, my frat brothers and the football team were congratulating us on our wedding and our impending son.
    “I’m not pregnant,” Abby said, shaking her head.
    “But . . . you guys are married, right?” Lexi said, dubious.
    “Yes,” Abby said simply.
    Lexi raised an eyebrow. “I’ll guess we’ll find out the truth soon enough.”
    I jerked my head to the side. “Beat it, Lex.”
    She ignored me. “I guess you both heard about the fire?”
    “A little bit,” Abby said, clearly uncomfortable.
    “I heard students were having a party down there. That they’ve been sneaking into basements all year.”
    “Is that so?” I asked. From the corner of my eye I could see Abby looking up at me, but I tried not to look too relieved. If that was true, maybe I’d be off the hook.
    The rest of the day was spent either being stared at or congratulated. For the first time, I wasn’t stopped between classes by different girls wanting to know my plans for the weekend.
They just watched as I walked by, hesitant to approach someone else’s husband. It was actually kinda nice.
    My day was going pretty well, and I wondered if Abby could say the same. Even my psych professor offered me a small smile and nod when she overhead my answer to questions about whether the rumor
was true.
    After our last class, I met Abby at the Camry, and tossed our bags into the backseat. “Was it as bad as you thought?”
    “Yes.” She breathed.
    “I guess today wouldn’t be a good day to break it to my dad, then, huh?”
    “No, but we’d better. You’re right, I don’t want him hearing the news somewhere else.”
    Her answer surprised me, but I didn’t question it. Abby tried to get me to drive, but I refused, insisting she get comfortable behind the wheel.
    The drive to Dad’s from campus didn’t take long—but longer than if I’d driven. Abby obeyed all traffic laws, mostly because she was nervous about getting pulled over and
accidentally handing the cop the fake ID.
    Our little town seemed different as it passed by, or maybe it was me that wasn’t the same. I wasn’t sure if it was being a married man that made me feel a little more
relaxed—laid-back, even—or if I had finally settled into my own skin. I was now in a situation where I didn’t have to prove myself, because the one person that fully accepted me,
my best friend, was now a permanent fixture in my life.
    It seemed like I had completed a task, overcome an obstacle. I thought about my mother, and the words she said to me almost a lifetime ago. That’s when it clicked: she had asked me not to
settle, to fight for the person I loved, and for the first time, I did what she expected of me. I had finally lived up to who she wanted me to be.
    I took a deep, cleansing breath, and reached over to rest my hand on Abby’s knee.
    “What is it?” she asked.
    “What