Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“Oh. Hi.”
I jumped at the sound of Darrel’s deep baritone. He’d come out of the house, and I hadn’t even heard him.
“Hey, Darrel. Sorry. Didn’t mean to intrude.” I moved back toward Gage’s place, even though I needed space and air.
“Nah, it’s fine. You can stay out here. It’s good to see you—someone here with him. He keeps himself locked up.”
Yeah, yeah he did. “Wasn’t always like that.” I frowned, surprised the words had come out of my mouth, like I felt this need to defend Gage, to make sure Darrel knew it wasn’t Gage’s fault he was this way.
If it’s not his fault, why is it mine?
“He, um…used to be friends with everyone, when we were kids, ya know? Gage never met a stranger. He could be friends with jocks, and troublemakers, and with sensitive guys like me. Shit. Ignore me. I’m sort of fucked up today.” I began pacing again, shaking out my hands as if that would somehow untie the knots in my chest and brain.
“Usually when someone says things they didn’t intend to, it means they need to say them. Your subconscious knows they need to come out. It’s our stubbornness and anger toward ourselves that keep us from doing what we need.”
My eyes snapped to Darrel. My chest hurt, and it was suddenly hard to breathe.
“Don’t mean to overstep. You can tell me to shut up anytime.”
But I didn’t. Why wasn’t I telling him to shut up?
I walked over to the picnic table and sat down, my leg bouncing like an electric pulse was shooting through it.
“He’s a good man,” Darrel said.
“I know. You think I don’t fucking know that? He’s the best kind of man.”
“So are you.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s because you don’t know. You know the Joey you see at the gym, the one you saw boxing.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think so. I’m typically a good judge of character. Did Gage tell you I spent time inside?”
My elbows were on the table, my head in my hands, but those words made me tilt my head up, my eyes finding him. “No.”
“Drugs and, well, other things. I’ve done a lot of bad shit in my life, for no other reason than I chose to do them. Some might think that makes me a bad person; others might think that means I made bad decisions. I learned a long time ago that it didn’t matter what those other people think. It matters what I think and the people I care enough about to give that gift to. I decided I didn’t want to be the person I was anymore, and I made that decision for myself. I got my shit together, got out, finished school, and now I try my best to help other people. Our pasts don’t own us, Joey, not if we don’t let them. We have no control over what we did, but we do have control over what we do now.”
“I don’t…” I didn’t know how to change. I didn’t know how to be anything else. I didn’t know how to feel like I deserved it.
“You care about him?”
“Yes.”
“You want more for him?”
“Yeah.”
“Then show him it’s okay to want that for himself. You can’t be there for him if you’re not there for yourself too. Do it for you, but if you can’t manage that, do it for him.”
We were at a standoff, the two of us staring at each other. I couldn’t get his words out of my head. They beat into my thoughts relentlessly.
“How?” I asked. “How did you do it?”
“One step at a time.”
The sound of a door opening came from behind me, and I turned to see Gage step outside. “You’re here. I thought you left.” There was a melancholy lilt to his voice. It would have hurt him, I realized, if I’d gone.
“No. I told you I wouldn’t go.” I stood up.
“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Darrel said. “Have a good one.”
“Thank you,” I told him as Gage said goodbye, and then it was him and me in a similar stalemate as what I’d shared with Darrel.
“Do you have plans today?” Gage asked.
Yes, tell him yes. If you don’t go now, you won’t ever go. Tell him you have to leave. Don’t let yourself off the hook. You don’t spend this day with anyone unless it hurts you.
“No, not until tonight.” When I was going to let someone hurt me. “I need to be home about eight.” The fight was at eleven.
“Will you stay?”
“Yes.” My lips couldn’t have formed any other answer.
“Good. Come on. Let’s make breakfast.”
His kitchen was tiny, hardly enough room for both of us. Gage looked in the fridge as I leaned against the counter.
“Let’s see what I have… Sausage, eggs, potatoes, veggies.”
My stomach growled. “All of it?”