We packed, jumped into our cars, drove fifty miles, then called our families, lying.
We lied because Julie was pregnant. It wasn’t Marty’s baby. It was my baby. And she had to have become pregnant within two weeks of Marty’s death.
Marty wasn’t just my best friend since I was nine, he was Julie’s fiance. We couldn’t let anyone know. So, I formulated a plan. We would run from our city, and then call our folks.
I went first.
I told my parents I had just gotten a job in Colorado and had to be there instantly and where I left the keys to apartment. They should clean it out and I’d send for some of my stuff when I settled. When they questioned, I said something about the line being bad, I’ll call tomorrow, and hung up.
Julie called her folks said she had transferred to the University of San Antonio as she couldn’t stay in the city. She told her family where her key was and did the same ‘bad line’ exit.
We’d clean up our stories when we were firm in wherever we ended up.