Oliver planned to meet Mia
at the river when the sun slipped
below the horizon;
he’d be there, and they’d escape
the weight of their religious parents.
Mia prayed to decide wisely.
She rolled down her passenger window.
A river, reflecting the moon, flowed beyond the guardrail.
Hills with stacks of evergreen trees
refreshed her lungs, replacing the city smog.
Its calm motion softened the tension
in her chest.
Oliver said they’d leave this town
with a broken rearview mirror,
and a bad reputation.
Mia waited with a bag
packed with all her stuff.
Last summer, the two graduated
from high school,
and no one could tell them anything
they didn’t already know.
He said he’d be here by now,
but the minutes felt like hours,
and doubt crept into Mia’s heart.
She looked at her watch,
and she released a sharp sigh.
Mia measured the future by her past
mistakes, which she shook off after
her parents took her out of context.
Mia traced back through
her thoughts, ignoring
the passersby with headlights
blinking at her like bloodshot eyes.
Mia rolled her window up.
She turned up the radio, crying to ’90s pop.
Oliver left her hanging; he always did.
Mia hung onto Oliver because loving herself,
scared her to death.
Telling herself that her long, sandy blond hair,
freckles that camouflaged her heart-shaped face,
blossomed her sun-kissed skin;
Mia would have to admit that she didn’t need
a man to tell her beauty defined her and her sense
of humor completed her.
Oliver didn’t show,
and Mia returned home.
She sat at the oak kitchen table with her father
over a coffee.
The TV played, but she spoke anyway.
Mia told him what she should
have told him years ago;
she told him to give her a chance to fail.
He scratched the back of his neck
and moved his nails along his stubble.
He apologized for smothering her,
but defended his actions until she pointed
out that cherry-picked the results
of a sheltered childhood.
And the man she’d never seen shed a tear
used tissues to wipe his eyes.
He promised to catch her when she fell.
Mia promised she’d never leave far from home
as long as he let her live her life.
He embraced her, and they sobbed together.
Her mother joined in the pity party,
which turned into respect
and reconciliation.
Oliver called, and she was happy to not take his call.
A boy she couldn’t live without deciding to live with herself,
and by the time he lost her, he didn’t recognize himself.