Paper Towns — Chapter no 50

says, “It’s this, isn’t it?”

I nod.

“Yeah,” Radar says. “As long as we don’t die, this is gonna be one hell

of a story.”

It will help if we can find her, I think, but I don’t say anything. Ben turns

on the radio finally and finds a rock station with ballads we can sing along

to.

Hour Twenty-one

After more than 1,100 miles on interstates, it’s finally time to exit. It’s

entirely impossible to drive seventy-seven miles per hour on the two-lane

state highway that takes us farther north, up toward the Catskills. But we’ll

be okay. Radar, ever the brilliant tactician, has banked an extra thirty

minutes without telling us. It’s beautiful up here, the late-morning sunlight

pouring down on old-growth forest. Even the brick buildings in the

ramshackle little downtowns we drive past seem crisp in this light.

Lacey and I are telling Ben and Radar everything we can think of in

hopes of helping them find Margo. Reminding them of her. Reminding

ourselves of her. Her silver Honda Civic. Her chestnut hair, stick straight.

Her fascination with abandoned buildings.

“She has a black notebook with her,” I say.

Ben wheels around to me. “Okay, Q. If I see a girl who looks exactly

like Margo in Agloe, New York, I’m not going to do anything. Unless she

has a notebook. That’ll be the giveaway.”