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The second day, Jack didn't show up at all, and Lydia eventually trudged home. The snow was calf-deep; there had been record low temperatures all winter.
第二天，杰克根本没有出现，莉迪亚最终艰难地走回家。雪小腿那么厚；整个冬天的低温都在刷新纪录。
A hundred miles north, Lake Erie had frozen; in Buffalo, snow drowned the roofs of houses, swallowing power lines.
往北一百英里，伊利湖结冰了；在布法罗，大雪淹没了屋顶，吞没了电线。
At home, Nath, who had sat alone on the bus for the first time he could remember, demanded, "What happened to you?" and Lydia stomped upstairs without replying.
纳第一次独自一人坐在公交车上，回到家后，他问道：“你怎么了？”莉迪亚一声不吭，跺着脚上楼了。
On the third day, Jack came out of the building alone, and Lydia took a deep breath and ran down to the curb. As usual, Jack wore no coat, no gloves.
第三天，杰克独自走出大楼，莉迪亚深吸一口气，跑到路边。像往常一样，杰克没穿外套，也没戴手套。
Two bare, red fingertips pinched a cigarette. "Mind giving me a ride home?" she said. "Miss Lee." Jack kicked a clump of snow off the front tire. "Aren't you supposed to be on your school bus?"
两只赤红的指尖捏着一支香烟。“你介意载我回家吗？”她说。杰克踢掉了汽车前轮上的一团雪，说：“李小姐，你不是应该坐校车吗？”
She shrugged, tugging her scarf back up to her neck. "Missed it." "I'm not going straight home." "I don't mind. It's too cold to walk." Jack fumbled in his hip pocket for his keys.
她耸耸肩，把围巾拉回到脖子上。“我错过了。”“我不会直接回家。”“没关系。天太冷了，走不了路。”杰克在屁股口袋里摸索着找钥匙。
"Are you sure your brother wants you hanging out with a guy like me?" he said, one eyebrow raised.
“你确定你哥哥想让你和我这样的人出去玩吗？”他挑起一侧眉毛说道。
"He's not my keeper." It came out louder than she meant, and Jack laughed out a puff of smoke and climbed into the driver's seat.
“他不是我的监护人。”声音比她想象的更大。杰克笑着吐出一缕烟，爬上了驾驶座。
Lydia, cheeks scarlet, had nearly turned away when he leaned over and popped up the knob on the passenger side. Now that she was in the car, she didn’t know what to say.
当他俯身弹出副驾驶座的旋钮时，莉迪亚两颊绯红，几乎转过身去。现在上了车，她不知道说什么好。
Jack started the engine and eased the car into gear, and the big speedometer and gas gauge on the dashboard flicked to life. There were no other dials.
杰克发动引擎，挂挡，仪表盘上的大速度表和汽油表开始闪烁。没有其他表盘。
Lydia thought of her parents' cars: all the indicators and warning lights to tell you if the oil was too low, if the engine was too hot, if you were driving with the parking brake on or the door or the trunk or the hood open.
莉迪亚想起了父母的车：所有的指示灯和警示灯都会告诉你油是否足够，引擎是否太热，驾驶时是否拉着刹车，车门、后备箱或引擎盖是否关闭。
They didn't trust you. They needed to check you constantly, to remind you what to do and what not to do.
他们不信任你。他们需要经常检查，提醒你什么该做，什么不该做。
She had never been alone with a boy before—her mother had forbidden her to go out with boys, not that she had ever tried—and it occurred to her that she had never had an actual conversation with Jack before.
她以前从未单独和一个男孩在一起过，母亲禁止她和男孩子们出去，她从未尝试过。她突然想到，她以前从未和杰克交谈过。
She had only a vague idea about the things that happened in the backseat.
她对后座上发生的事情只有一个模糊的概念。
Out of the corner of her eye, she studied Jack's profile, the faint stubble—darker than his sandy hair—that ran all the way up to his sideburns and all the way down to the soft part of his throat, like a smudge of charcoal waiting to be wiped away.
她用眼角的余光端详着杰克的侧影，那淡淡的胡茬比他的沙色头发还要黑，一直延伸到鬓角，延伸到他喉咙的柔软部分，就像一团等待被擦掉的木炭。
"So," she said. Her fingers twitched, and she tucked them into her coat pocket. "Can I bum a cigarette?" Jack laughed. "You're so full of shit. You don't smoke."
“那么，”她说。她的手指抽搐了一下，她把它们塞进上衣口袋里。“我能要支烟吗？”杰克笑了。“你真是一派胡言。你又不抽烟。”
He offered the pack anyway, and Lydia plucked out a cigarette. She'd thought it would be solid and heavy, like a pencil, but it was light, like nothing at all.
不管怎样，他还是把烟盒给了莉迪亚，莉迪亚掏出一支香烟。她原以为它会像铅笔一样又硬又重，但它很轻，一点也不像铅笔。
Without taking his eyes off the road, Jack tossed her his lighter. "So you decided you didn't need your brother to chaperone you home today."
杰克目不转睛地看着路，把打火机扔给了她。“所以你决定今天不需要你哥哥陪你回家。”
Lydia could not ignore the scorn in his voice, and she was unsure if he was laughing at her, or Nath, or both of them at once.
莉迪亚无法忽视他声音里的讥诮，她拿不准他是在笑她，还是在笑纳，还是笑他们两个人。
"I'm not a child," she said, lighting the cigarette and putting it to her lips. The smoke burned in her lungs and made her head spin and suddenly she felt sharp and aware.
“我不是小孩子了，”她说着，点燃了香烟，把它放到唇边。烟在她的肺里燃烧，让她头晕目眩，她突然感到敏锐和清醒。
Like cutting your finger, she thought: the pain, and the blood, reminded you that you were alive.
就像割破手指一样，她想：疼痛和鲜血提醒着你，你还活着。
She breathed out, a tiny cyclone funneling between her teeth, and held out the lighter. Jack waved a hand. "Stick it in the glove compartment."
她吐出了一口气，一股微小的旋风从她的牙缝里钻了出来，她拿出了打火机。杰克挥了挥手。“把它放在杂物箱里。”
