The Distance from Me to You Read Online Free

mind was on the trail, she liked hearing about her own fearlessness, her own resourcefulness.
    McKenna had no doubts at all; she would be just fine on the trail.
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    The next morning, McKenna stood in the driveway with her parents and Lucy, waiting for Courtney and Brendan. Originally, Brendan was going to drive the girls up to Maine and drop them off at Baxter State Park, so they had to make it look like that was still the plan.
    â€œYou sure you have everything?” McKenna’s dad asked. “Did you use your checklist when you packed?”
    McKenna nodded, not meeting his eye. All she had to do was get in the car and drive away, and she’d have made it. She’d be free.
    â€œListen,” her mom said. “I was thinking you could text us every morning. Just to let us know you’re all right. You know, just, ‘Good morning, I’m alive.’ Something like that. Before nine?”
    â€œMom,” McKenna said, “I’m only bringing the phone in case of emergency. I don’t want to be texting every day, or looking to see what time it is. And please remember not to call me, because I won’t answer, and I won’t check voice mail. I want this experience to be authentic.”
    â€œI can appreciate that,” her dad said, in the hyper-reasonable tone that usually preceded a contradiction. “But you need to appreciate, your mother will be worried.” Her mom shot him a look that demanded solidarity, and he added, “I will be, too.How about twice a week? Let’s say Wednesday and Friday you’ll send us a text by ten a.m.”
    â€œI really don’t want to be looking at the time. Didn’t you always say that was one of the best parts of your hike, never knowing what time it was?” McKenna argued.
    â€œBefore dark, then,” her mom conceded. “Text us Wednesday and Friday before dark, telling us where you are. That’s just safety, right, to let someone know where you are?”
    She sounded so pleading, McKenna felt guilty. “Fine,” she said.
    And then,
finally
, there it was, Brendan’s mom’s minivan, rounding the corner. McKenna stood on her toes and waved furiously, as if they might drive past if she didn’t flag them down.
    Her dad picked up her pack. “Sheesh,” he said, hoisting it onto his shoulder. “Are you going to be able to carry this thing?”
    â€œDad,” McKenna said, reaching for the pack. The last thing she needed was for him to see the back of the van empty where Courtney’s camping gear should be. “I can do it.”
    â€œNo, no,” he insisted. He headed to the back door of the van and opened it while McKenna battled a heart attack. But there lay Courtney’s backpack, bulging almost as much as McKenna’s. Any anger McKenna felt toward Courtney evaporated in a moment of pure love.
    â€œYou ready?” her mom asked Courtney.
    â€œI’m ready,” Courtney said. Her voice sounded high and nervous.
    McKenna hugged her dad, and Lucy. Her mom hugged her a little too long, and whispered in her ear, “Be safe out there. Be careful.”
    â€œI will, Mom,” McKenna said, and kissed her cheek.
    Then she climbed into the backseat and didn’t turn around to see her mom and dad standing in the driveway, waving good-bye.
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    McKenna would have been surprised to know just how long her parents stood there after the minivan pulled away.
    â€œI can’t believe it,” McKenna’s mom said when the van was completely out of sight. “I can’t believe we’re letting her do this.”
    â€œDon’t worry,” her dad said. “They’ll be back in a week.”
    Her mom nodded, still waving, clinging to the sight of McKenna until the van rounded the corner.
    â€œI hope you’re right,” she said, hugging herself and rubbing her arms as if she were cold,