Chapter 22

I put the menu down, suddenly decided.

“I think Noah and I will be on our way,” I said, standing up.

“What on earth do you mean?” Mrs. Ledbetter demanded.

I held out my hand to Noah, the look in my eyes saying that it was time to leave. He did not question this look, merely stood.

“I’ll leave you to it,” I said. “Y’all have a good time.”

“Wiley, what the hell?” Jackson demanded too loudly.

“I’m not comfortable here, and I would like to leave,” I said to him. “I’ll see you later. Or not. At this point, I’m not sure I care.”

I took Noah’s hand and marched off, my face burning with a flush of embarrassed blood.

“Wiley, wait!” Jackson called.

He followed us to the front door. I went outside and stood on the sidewalk, trembling with an unaccountable anger. A troop of motorcyclists passed, and I glimpsed the Confederate colors on more than one shiny metal surface.

“Wiley, please,” Jackson said, taking my arm.

“Noah and I are going home. Care to join us?”