Page 96 of Past the Broken Bridges

Tick tock, tick tock.

I stand, grabbing my plate and refusing to dwell on the reality we’re dealt with. Voice cracking, I walk to the kitchen and ask, “Who wants more food?”

Bentley is the only one who answers.

That night, I hear voices outside my door when I thought everyone left for their hotel.

I use the peephole to see my father shaking Banks’s hand.

Dad speaks so quietly to my neighbor that I don’t know what he says.

Banks turns to the door, staring as if he knows I’m spying.

Then he nods at my father.

Once.

Dad leaves.

Banks glances at my door one last time before disappearing into his apartment.

I step back and rub my arm, wondering what they could have been talking about.

Walking over to the couch, I sit where Bentley was all afternoon as we watched movies as a family.

My hand drags across the stain he left on the couch when he spilled his soda.

Mom freaked out about it more than I did. She sprang into action and started cleaning it.

It’s so quiet here now without them.

I hug my knees to my chest and look at the door, unsure if I should knock on Banks’s.

I pick up my phone, nibbling on my lip when I see the time.

Dialing a number, I wait as it rings a few times before it picks up. “I didn’t know if you’d answer,” I tell Dixie.

She hasn’t spoken to me much since we studied at the library together. I know I hurt her feelings because shefound reasons to avoid me. First it was tests she was stressed about. Then it was homework she was behind on. Once, she mentioned a group of girls she met at Dawson’s basketball game had invited her out to a game LSU was playing against a nearby college.

I’m happy she’s making friends, even if it means I get the boot. It’s what I deserve anyway.

Dixie sighs. “I was upset,” she admits, her voice still weighed with emotion that makes guilt wrap around my heart. “There’s just been a lot…” She sighs. “Never mind.”

We’re quiet for a long time, neither of us knowing what to say.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, fidgeting with the throw blanket beside me. “I’ve never been very good about opening up. It’s not just with you.”

For a while, I don’t think Dixie is going to reply. But then she sighs. “You don’t owe me any explanation. I shouldn’t have been ignoring you. It was stupid.”

It’s not though. “Friends should always be there for friends” is my response, as I rest my chin on top of my knees. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been. When you get back from Pennsylvania, we should do something. I’ll make it up to you.”

There’s a brief pause. “I’d like that.”

I smile.

After another brief moment, she says, “I hope one day you’ll be comfortable enough to share your skeletons with me.”

One day.

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