Along for the Ride

“I heard someone saying, ‘Shh, shh,’ before quickly being drowned out again. There was something so familiar about this, it was like a tug on my subconscious. When my parents had first started to fight at night, this had been part of what I’d repeated—shh, shh, everything’s all right—to myself again and again, as I tried to ignore them and fall asleep.”

Auden hears this comforting dialogue of “shh, shh” from Heidi as she rocks Thisbe in the pink nursery. The words are familiar, relating to Auden’s past conflicts regarding her parents’ divorce and the beginning of her insomnia, which are key aspects of her character. Auden repeats this line “shh, shh, everything’s all right” multiple times to comfort herself. This use of repetition and flashback establishes an integral part of Auden’s character from past to present, as well as links her to Heidi and her new half sister.

“[T]he events of the night came rushing back to me: my dad’s sharp tone, Jake’s easy smile, our fumbled, hurried connection behind the dunes, and how it suddenly all felt so weird and wrong, not like me at all. Maybe my mom could play the aloof, selfish bitch. But that was what I’d been doing: playing. Until the game was up. I was a smart girl. Why had I done something so stupid?”

Auden’s inner life and voice are shown as a strong example of dynamic characterization in this section. She regrets hooking up with Jake at the beach party. She only attended because she was attempting to branch out of her comfort zone and be social. She cries as she recognizes that having sex with Jake was a mistake; she knows their intimacy meant nothing. Auden’s comparison to her mother is also striking since she can’t be as unfeeling as Victoria. She’s smart academically, but she has no experience socially and romantically—traits that define her character at the beginning but change later.

“‘I don’t need a nanny. I just need an hour here or there,’ [Heidi said.]

‘So ask Auden. Isn’t that why you asked her to come visit?’ [my father said.]

I literally felt like I’d been slapped. My reaction was that visceral, blood rushing to my face.

‘I didn’t invite Auden so she’d babysit,’ she said.

‘Then why is she here?’

Another silence followed. This one I welcomed though, as sometimes a question can hurt more than an answer. Finally Heidi said, ‘For the same reason I want you to spend time with the baby. Because she’s your daughter and you should want to be with her.’”

This argument between Heidi and Robert reveals that he wanted to use Auden as a babysitter, not to connect with her over the summer as she hoped. This unexpected revelation hurts Auden deeply, layering conflict between not just Heidi and Robert, but also paternal responsibilities for Auden and Thisbe. Auden’s “visceral” reaction instigates her journey to see her parents as they truly are, such as her father’s selfishness. She is also touched by how Heidi defends her and pushes Robert to bond with his children.

“I was sure they thought I was a total stick-in-the-mud, not that I cared. It was just like all the activities I’d walked past at my old schools during lunch—fake sumo wrestling, pie-eating contests, mass games of Twister on the quad—always wondering how, exactly, you did stuff like that. Maybe if you’d done it as a kid, it was all nostalgia, and that was the appeal. But I hadn’t. It was all new to me, and therefore more intimidating than anything else.”

While Maggie, Esther, and Leah encourage her to join their ritual dance around the boutique, Auden declines. Her inner thoughts relate to her upbringing and themes of not having a childhood, foregoing fun in favor of serious academics, and trepidation to try new experiences. The dancing and past activities she’s missed out on relate to her quest with Eli as well, for Auden invests in her growth.

“Every time I heard [Maggie] going on about stuff like this, the nuances of different brands of flip-flops, or pros and cons of boy shorts versus bikini bottoms, it seemed like such a waste. Here you had the capability to know so much about so many things, and you chose shoes and clothes. [...] Maggie was just…well, she was just like Heidi. A girl’s girl, all the way, all pink and fluff and frivolity.”

Relating to the theme of judgment, Auden considers Maggie a “girl’s girl” with no depth or substance beyond knowledge she deems irrelevant, such as fashion. Auden’s superiority complex, much like her mother’s, is showcased here to establish that she judges people harshly without getting to know them. Only later does Auden reframe her view of Heidi and Maggie. When she watches Maggie biking and learns that she is academically smart and is attending the same esteemed college as her, Auden shifts her judgmental tendencies.

“‘I can ride a bike,’ I said. And this was true. I’d learned over Christmas when I was seven, in our driveway, on Hollis’s old Schwinn, with training wheels. From what I remembered, I’d liked it, or at least not hated it. [...] ‘I just haven’t had the opportunity in a while.’ [...] It was weird, because usually I was totally nervous talking to guys. But Eli was different. He made me want to say more, not less.”

The bantering dialogue between Eli and Auden continues at the bike park, and his kindness and non-judgmental nature are obvious when he tells Auden not to be ashamed. She cannot fully recall the classic childhood experience of riding a bike, and she declines when Eli suggests she bikes on the course in front of them with the other riders. The fact she speaks more to Eli rather than less also links back to the theme of speaking up, her shy and stoic character growing to express herself more openly. The symbol of biking becomes powerful for Auden since biking helps her regain her lost childhood, learn to persevere when she fails, and earn Eli’s love.

“‘I knew any business Heidi owned would probably not be to my sensibilities. But Booty Berry? And what about those Lolita-esque swimming bottoms?’ [my mother said.]

‘Well,’ I said, ‘the fact is, she knows her market. That stuff really sells.’

‘Of course it does! But that doesn’t make it right. [...] And all that pink. It’s like a giant vagina in there.’

I stifled a laugh, covering my mouth with my hand.

‘It’s just so bothersome because it’s the most shallow, base depiction of the female experience. Sugar and spice and everything nice, peddling packaging, not substance.’”

Victoria’s rant about Heidi’s store, where Auden works as the accountant, displays an underlying thread in the novel about female stereotypes. Auden’s intellectual mother believes Heidi’s store is shallow and silly, looking down upon such a means of making money. Due to her upbringing, Auden thinks similarly to her mother, but her views are starting to change, as shown by how she defends Heidi stating that she knows her market well. Though she’s embarrassed at first to work in such an unsophisticated place, Auden chooses not to reject femininity as her mother does and grows to respect and appreciate Heidi and the girls who work there.

“I’d always had to work so hard to keep my mother’s interest, wresting it away from her work, her colleagues, her students, my brother. I’d often wondered if I was ridiculous to feel this way. Clearly though, my instincts had been right: her attention was not only hard to come by, but entirely too easy to lose.”

After arguing with her mother at a restaurant over the pink raincoat she borrowed from Heidi and her mother insinuating she was changing into a less serious girl, Auden reflects that the conflict with Victoria stems from her childhood. She’s had these feelings for a while, but she’s always repressed them. She feels lonely and sad that she has to fight for her mother’s attention. The neglect Auden felt from her parents, only noticed for her academic achievements and expected to be a mature adult at a young age, has persisted.

“Esther laughed, and I just sat there, looking down at my coffee and remembering how completely out of my element I’d been at that party, and that moment. Never before had it become so obvious that although I’d spent my entire life learning, there was a lot of stuff I still didn’t know.

[...] ‘I mean, we just figured you thought you were better than us. But maybe you just didn’t know how to hang out,’ [Maggie said].”

Immediately after the conflict at a house party with Eli’s ex-girlfriend, Auden admits her ignorance about social interactions. Disclosing her shortcomings isn’t easy for Auden, who is used to excelling, so opening up to the girls shows her character growth. Maggie, Esther, and Leah support her and gain a new understanding of Auden when she shares that she has never understood how to have a successful social life. Their honesty leads to a tight friendship that Auden has never experienced. Her superiority is also brought up, and Auden regrets judging the girls, displaying one of the novel’s significant messages to not form uninformed conclusions.

“Watching him, I thought, not for the first time that night, that maybe it should have felt strange to be with him, here, now. And yet it didn’t, at all. [...] Stuff that would be weird in the bright light of day just wasn’t so much once you passed a certain hour. [...] I said, ‘I just think that it’s too late, maybe. All the things I should have been doing over the last eighteen years, like going to slumber parties, or breaking curfew on Friday night or—’

‘Riding a bike,’ he said.”

Auden is surprised to feel comfortable with Eli, but she relates it to the night’s effects that she knows well from her insomnia. The contrast of light and day is a metaphor for Auden’s growth into a more courageous, outgoing young woman who isn’t afraid to open up or move beyond her comfort zone. Her attraction to Eli builds, and Auden shares that she regrets losing out on experiences most children have, from sleepovers to riding a bike. This conversation leads to her quest with Eli to check off her missed activities, a quest that ultimately transforms her.

“‘If you’re going to do the firecracker thing, you’re on your own. [...] I appreciate your quest and everything, but I have to draw the line somewhere,’ [Eli said].

‘Wait,’ I said, holding up my hand. ‘My quest?’

He turned to look at me. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘You know, like in Lord of the Rings, or Star Wars. You’re searching for something you lost or need. It’s a quest.’

I just looked at him. [...] Here I’d thought we were just handing out. Killing time. [...] I kind of liked the idea of searching for something you’d lost or needed. Or both.”

The term “quest” is first used in this conversation between Eli and Auden as they are bowling, which she’s never done before. By deeming it a quest and stating he’s invested, Eli encourages Auden to accomplish her goal of enjoying experiences she’s never had. Their relationship becomes closer as they both engage in her quest, an important plot element that allows her character to grow.

“It was all there: how his skin would feel against my fingertips, strands against my palm, his hands rising up to my waist. Like it was already happening, and then, suddenly, I heard the door bang behind me.

‘Hey,’ Adam called out, and I turned to see him holding up the camera again, the lens pointing right at us. “Smile!’

As the shutter snapped, I knew it was likely I’d never see this picture. But even if I did, it wouldn’t come close to capturing everything I was feeling right then. If I ever did get a copy, I already had the perfect place for it: a blue frame, a few words etched beneath. The best of times.”

Auden tells Eli she’s sorry about Abe’s death, and he thanks her and stares deeply into her eyes. They share their first romantic moment of attraction in Adam’s kitchen, and Auden imagines kissing him, her first real crush. Relating to the symbol of the Best of Times frame, she finally feels she has meaningful memories that are worth framing. The frame is a symbol of allowing oneself to have fun and experience new things, so Auden thinking of the frame here before their almost-kiss is apt.

“‘Who says you have to be either smart or pretty or into girly stuff or sports? Life shouldn’t be about the either/or. We’re capable of more than that, you know?’ [Maggie said].

Clearly, she was. Not that I’d seen it, really, until now. ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘That makes sense.’

[...] Maybe it was true, and being a girl could be about interest rates and skinny jeans, riding bikes and wearing pink. Not about any one thing, but everything.”

This passage illustrates a main idea in the book and lesson Auden must learn: that girls can be everything they want, not just one thing. From Maggie’s insight, Auden learns she doesn’t have to compromise as a female—that she can be smart and pretty, sporty and feminine, like Maggie. Despite Victoria’s belief that the feminine ideal is a harmful stereotype that should be shunned (including makeup, romance, fashion, etc.), Auden realizes she doesn’t have to fit any categories. As a girl, she can be herself and encompass everything she wants to be, no matter if it’s judged as inherently masculine or feminine.

“He climbed onto the bike, then rose up on the pedals, moving slowly forward. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘maybe he [Hollis] just found the right person. People change.’

He was riding around me and the cart, and as I watched him I thought of my mother, saying these same two words with a don’t between them, with equal conviction.”

This passage contrasts Victoria’s viewpoint about people not changing with Eli’s perspective that people can and do change. Auden is developing her way of thinking, as personal freedom is a theme of the novel, and she is presented with opposing views about Hollis and his new girlfriend Laura, the first woman he’s ever committed to. This dialogue also relates to the theme of change, to be evolving rather than static, and Auden is transforming with her quest, tackling new things due to Eli’s positive influence.

“‘Look, Aud. I know the divorce was hard for you. And living with Mom afterward had to be even harder. She’s not exactly kid-friendly.’

‘I wasn’t a kid,’ I told him. ‘I was sixteen.’

‘You’re always a kid around your parents,’ he replied. ‘Unless they’re acting like children. Then you don’t get the chance. You know what I’m saying?’

I realized, suddenly, that I did. Just about the same time that it hit me why my brother had stayed gone for so long, careful to keep an ocean and a telephone line between us and him. It was the reverse of most families: to be a kid, you had to leave home. It was returning that made you grow up, once and for all.”

As children of divorce, Auden and her brother Hollis can reflect on the effects their parents’ toxic relationship had on them. Since the effects of divorce are a major theme of the novel and a core of Auden’s emotional cleansing later, their bonding about the divorce and handling it differently to cope are key factors that have shaped these two characters. In Hollis’s case, running away to travel was his only way to be free, childlike, and move on from the pain. Auden never had a true childhood; she coped by keeping her emotions and thoughts inside.

“‘Don’t,’ I said quickly. I could feel her surprise, could see her on the other end of the phone, pen in hand, eyebrows raised. ‘I mean, I’m not really sure I want to live there.’

Silence. Then, ‘Auden. I don’t think you understand how distracting it can be to live in a dorm environment. There are people who come to college purely for the social life. Do you really want to be stuck in a room with someone like that?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘But I don’t want to spend every single second studying either.’

‘Oh.’ Her voice was flat. ‘I suppose this is part of your blossoming then? Suddenly school isn’t important anymore, just boys and girlfriends and clothes?

‘Of course not.’”

In this conversation, Auden leaps forward in her self-agency. She finds expanding power to make decisions, showing her freedom and assertiveness. Contradicting her mother about the college dorms is her first moment of defiance. Auden denies she’s changing to the degree Victoria believes, but she’s not afraid any longer to stand up for herself and make decisions that her mother may not approve of.

“‘You know,’ Eli said, tossing another paper and hitting another front stoop–thwack!–’it’s okay to not be good at everything.’”

Eli’s advice that it is “okay to not be good at everything” resonates deeply with some of the novel’s major themes: perseverance, second chances, and change. Auden is determined to excel at every activity she tries, especially those she deems “easy,” like this paper route. His statement hits at her core, for she often gives up if she fails at tasks like this, turning instead to academics. Auden is frustrated by not succeeding at throwing papers, akin to when she was terrible at bowling earlier. She also reveals her solitary character, for she never had to “involve” anyone in her studying and academic success.

“‘I certainly don’t want to make things worse than I already have. It’s possible they’d be better off without me. Even probable,’ [my father said.]

I felt my stomach twist, unexpectedly. ‘I doubt that,’ I said. ‘Heidi loves you.’

‘And I her,’ he said. ‘But sometimes, love isn’t enough.’

The weird thing was that what bothered me the most about him saying this was that it was such a lame, throwaway line. He was a great writer: I knew he could do better.”

Auden’s father gives up when parts of life get difficult and he can’t excel at them. Auden is similar. She gets too close to Eli and gives up on their quest. Likewise, her father can’t compromise his goals to be present, engaged, and supportive of Heidi and Thisbe. Auden’s insight about his “throwaway” line shows she has grown to see her father as a selfish, irresponsible man who can do better. She believes he can fix his problems with Heidi and be a wonderful dad to Thisbe, her, and Hollis if he tries, rather than giving up and doubting the power of love.

“I knew my dad [...] if things got complicated, he extricated himself, somehow managing to make it seem like it was the most selfless of gestures, instead of just the opposite. He wasn’t abandoning Heidi and Thisbe: he was simplifying their lives. He hadn’t left my mom over professional envy: he’d stepped aside to give her the spotlight she needed. And he certainly hadn’t basically ignored the fact that I was his child all those years: he was teaching me to be independent and grown-up in a world in which most people were too infantile. My dad never got back on the bike. He never even let himself crash. One wobble, or even a hint of one, and he pulled over to the side, abandoning the ride altogether.”

Auden’s thoughts about how her father operates show that she sees her parents as flawed and that she’s grown to recognize her father doesn’t persist. Auden can relate to giving up and getting off the bike rather than pushing through wobbles and crashes. She used to be the same. But she wants her father to be steady, to stay determined, and to tackle obstacles even in the face of possible failure, a lesson she learns throughout the novel.

“Right away, I thought of me and Eli, working our way down my quest. Each of those things—bowling, food fights, tossing newspapers—had happened late and out of order, not exactly as they probably should have. But the memories and experiences were no less real because of it. If anything, they were more special, because they hadn’t happened to me, but because of me. And him.”

After Heidi suggests that you need to “manufacture your own history,” and “give fate a push” sometimes, Auden thinks of her events with Eli (345). Connecting to the theme of second chances, Auden took control of her destiny and designed her experiences through the quest with Eli. Instead of waiting for the adventures to happen, to take part in them during school or other outlets when they arose, she made them happen. Her freedom and power, as well as Eli’s, allowed her to cherish these memories more deeply than if she’d done them sooner in life with other people. Her romantic feelings and nostalgia for Eli are also palpable in this paragraph.

“I realized now why Maggie was so sure I’d be leaving with more than a bike at the end of the summer. Because it was obvious, this true difference in me now: I had these experiences, these tales, more of this life. So maybe it wasn’t a fairy tale. But those stories weren’t real anyway. Mine were.”

This passage summarizes Auden’s transformation throughout the summer. She may have bought a bike on a whim, but her unforgettable experiences--real friendships with Maggie, Esther, and Leah, her romance with Eli, Jason standing her up for prom twice, defying her parents, becoming more social and assertive—cumulate into her growth. She feels different and finally has stories she can tell, especially those that involve others, rather than just anecdotes about her academics. Even though she made mistakes—from pushing Eli away to being socially awkward with conflicts between other girls—she took chances at last.

“[My dad] was used to me chalking up whatever decisions he made into a peculiar kind of logic. [...] It excused so much. [...] He was a writer, he was moody, he was selfish. He needed his sleep, he needed his space, he needed his time. If he’d kept himself apart from the rest of the world, these things would have been just quirky annoyances. [...] But he did involve other people. [...] He made children with them, who then also could not separate themselves, whether they were babies or adults. You just couldn’t pick and choose at will when someone depended on you, or loved you. It wasn’t like a light switch, easy to shut on or off. If you were in, you were in. Out, you were out. To me, it didn’t seem complicated at all.”

During a phone conversation with her dad when he says his relationship with Heidi is complicated, Auden gains the courage to confront him. She tells him he has the opportunity for a second chance, but he’d rather just quit on Thisbe and Heidi, and that he needs to prove his love for his family. This is a moment for Auden, she speaks up recognizing that her dad’s justifications do not excuse him from abandoning people who count on him, need him, and love him. She knows her dad needs to be in or out and stop making excuses. Her speech ultimately provokes her dad to change and return to Heidi and Thisbe.

“I just stared at [my mother], watching as she started to pace the kitchen floor, rocking Isby in her arms. [...] ‘Shh, shh,’ she was saying. ‘Everything’s all right.’

Her voice was low. Soft. And with these last words, suddenly familiar in a way it had not been ever before. That voice I thought I’d imagined or conjured: it was her, all along. Not a dream, or a mantra, but a memory. A real one.”

In these lyrical lines of sensory imagery about her mother’s voice, Auden places the mantra she’s used as comfort words for years. The “Shh, shh. Everything is alright” wasn’t her invention but a memory from her mother rocking her as a baby, just as she rocks Thisbe now. The repetition of these lines creates a closeness with her mother after their conflicts, as she babysits Thisbe so Auden can attend the Beach Bash. Auden sees the softer side of her mother, and the same soothing “Shh, shh,” that Heidi uses with Thisbe too, linking two extremely different women with a similar love for their babies.