Page 232


notice, but the Mississippi river sparkles at night. The moonlight bounces off the waves pulsing against the lock and dam, and breaks into a million pieces scattered across the water.

That was the night we had finally decided to do it. We parked next to the riverwalk. We needed jackets because, even though it was July, the night air was freezing as it blew off the river.

“Ready?” Jolene grabbed my hand as we set out.

We had been promising each other since we were little girls that we would walk across the bridge at night, and stand in the middle, with one foot in Iowa, and one in Illinois. The bridge was lit up – it looked as though Christmas lights had been twined around the metal.

When we arrived at the middle, we sat cross-legged, facing each other. “I’mma miss you, JoJo,” I whispered, running my fingers over the college logo on her sweatshirt.

“I’ll miss you too,” she said. "But I’ll be home for Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and we’ll talk all the time, just like

View this story's 6 comments.