Page 38 of Truth or More Truth
“Noooo. But now you’re going to have to tell me.”
fifteen
. . .
“This isn’t a very flattering story—for me, that is,” I admit to Bobby.
“I don’t think I’m one to throw stones,” he replies.
“Touché.” I take a deep breath. “You know I grew up with the Hamilton boys. We went to both school and church together, and our moms have been friends since before I was born, so we were around each other all the time and knew each other pretty well. In seventh grade, Ash and I were both at a party and we ended up in the closet together during ‘Seven Minutes in Heaven.’” I bury my face in my hands and take a deep breath.
“The kissing was that, bad, huh?”
I lower my hands and shake my head. “It actually wasn’t, even though it was the first kiss for both of us, though neither of us knew it at the time. Anyway, Ash wasn’t the most popular kid. He was nerdy and quiet and giant and awkward. I liked him, though. But after the kiss, I didn’t want to admit to anyone that I enjoyed it, so I made fun of him instead. The news that he was a terrible kisser spread around school really fast.” I can feel Bobby looking at me, even though I’m looking out the side window to avoid his eyes.
“Go ahead,” I say. “Tell me how terrible I am.”
My body twitches when his hand lands on mine.
“Melissa,” his deep voice says, “you’re not terrible. Not now,at least. You were a kid, and kids do dumb things.” I’m well aware of the idiotic choices thirteen-year-olds can make, since I’m the parent of one. “I did my share of them, and I’m sure Ash did, too.”
“No, I don’t think he did. Ash was a really good kid. He always treated everyone with kindness, even when they were terrible to him, like I was. He never would’ve done what I did. He didn’t deserve that from me.” A tear leaks out the corner of my eye.
Bobby squeezes my hand before letting it go, but he doesn’t say anything else as we continue down the dark, winding road.
“I apologized to him when we reconnected this past year, and he forgave me, but that doesn’t change the facts.”
“Sounds like you maybe need to forgive yourself for it,” Bobby says.
I finally turn to look at him, and he gives me a brief glance and a small smile before returning his attention to the road.
“Look at you being all full of wisdom,” I tease.
“I’m really good at telling other people what they should do,” he says.
“Let me guess,” I say, “you’re not that great at doing it yourself?”
“That would be correct.”
I start to laugh, but it turns into a shriek as Bobby slams on the brakes, flings his right arm out in front of me, and curses while the car fishtails down the road. He moves his hand back to the steering wheel, gripping it tightly, before the car finally skids to a stop along the narrow gravel shoulder. Even though it’s dark, I know if I opened my door, I’d be looking down into a deep ditch.
“What the heck, Bobby Joe?” I suck in a few lungfuls of air and press my hands over my pounding heart.
He doesn’t reply. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and he’s staring straight ahead while slightly shaking. I remove my hands from my chest and shift the car into park. Then I cover his right hand with my left, slowly prying it off the wheel. He’s still not talking, which is making me nervous.
“We’re okay, Bobby. Everything’s fine.” Well, I’m not sure he’sfine, but I need to get his attention. “Bobby,” I say louder, trying to bring his focus to me instead of being stuck somewhere inside his head.“Bobby.”
He blinks a few times and then his gaze swings to me.
“What happened?” I ask. “Why’d you hit the brakes?”
He breathes deeply a few times before saying, “Deer.”
Why’s he calling medear?Did he somehow hit his head?
“What, Bobby? What happened?” Worry bubbles up in my chest.
“Deer. Road.” He’s still not speaking in complete sentences, though he’s finally starting to make sense.
