You know why
“Get in the truck.Let’s go for a ride,” I tell her, because now that we’re a couple and we got through that Reynold shit, it’s time I share, too.
The idea of sharing is so foreign to me. I keep my shit locked down. No one can ever hurt you or use it against you that way. But Goldie’s been such an open book for the first time and in front of me. Vulnerable ain’t a word I often use in my life, but that’s what she’s been, so I gotta be…vulnerable, too.
I turn the key to the ignition to flood the cab with some heat, and I stare out the windshield as I start talking because I’m not quite sure what path I’m taking here. As long as I get to the end, I guess it don’t matter.
“I hated you when I first saw you,” I admit, my voice raspy and raw.
“What the fuck?” she asks, with a laugh that tells me even though I’m being truthful, she knows it’s no longer my truth.
“I had a sister.” The air dies a little between us as all playfulness drains from the cab. “She was younger. Anoops baby, my Mom called her.” I take a minute to steady myself as the sea of emotion rises in me.
Goldie links our hands, and the world rights itself enough to forge ahead.
“She was bullied by the popular girls. She was different, always was. She loved painting her nails every day and reading sci-fi and fantasy books. She loved cassettes and records and… in general; she was just a very cool person with an old soul and huge heart.”
Her thumb strokes mindlessly against my wrist, comforting me in the most subtle way that I appreciate more than she knows.
“But high school girls are mean as shit. And if you don’t look a certain way and like everything that the mainstream likes, you’re done for.” I run my fingers through my beard, remembering Mere’s excitement at snagging the original Heart record at a yard sale one day.
Now I have to face her because this is the hard part. This is the truth.
“You reminded me of the girls that hurt her. They were a lot like you.” Goldie’s face falls a little, but she maintains her composure as she listens, so I tighten my grip on her hand, giving it a kiss before I continue.
Kissing hands.Who am I?
A man who caught some serious fuckin’ feelings.
“Pretty, thin, had money, and were… superficial.” My lips twitch at the corner on that last word because I know she’s working on not being that way, and I want to recognize that. “I know you aren’t those things, and I know you’re working through shit, but when I first met you, I saw someone that looked a lot like the enemy.”
Her thumb strokes the top of my hand, and my veins buzz.
“I told her, once you’re out of high school, none of this shit matters, you know? You can wear whatever the fuck you want, listen to whatever the fuck you want, and live however you want to live because adults don’t bully other adults. I mean, they usually don’t.”
I take a breath, despising my parting advice with my sister just as much today as I did after the accident. “When she came to me with worries and shit, I’d always just tell her; this is high school. It sucks for everyone. Just make it to graduation and you’ll be fine.”
I’m surprised and angry when my eyes sting, but I ignore it, hoping the tears never fall. I face Goldie, and her eyes are wide, focused and full of compassion.
“I mean, who fuckin’ tells someone who’s being bullied to soldier on and then ignore them?” A treasonous tear breaks free, and Goldie swipes it away quickly without taking her eyes from mine.
“She stepped in front of a car, on purpose, out on Gull Road. There’s a curve there by an overlook. It’s a blind curve, and people usually take it pretty quick. She knew what she wanted to do, and she timed it just right and she did it.”
“Oh, Atticus,” Goldie’s words float over me, the softness of them wearing down the spike of pressure inside me. It’s so hard to talk about her. Even still. “Oh god,” Goldie begins to sob as she processes my words but doesn’t release my hand to wipe away tears or snot. She just becomes a mess right in front of me, and my heart throbs much harder in response.
“Atticus, oh my god.” Tears stream easily as she adds, “oh no, Edie, Harry… oh god, Atticus, baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she sobs. Leaning over the console, she wraps her arms around my neck and peppers wet kisses along my jaw and cheek, finally sealing our mouths together.
Our kiss is salty with tears and slick with snot, and I don’t fuckin’ care. We kiss so goddamn hard thatthis moment, as sad and fuckin’ hard as it is, will be the moment that goes down in history as “when I knew.”
We break apart, and she slides down into her seat, keeping our hands linked.
“I spent the last seventeen years of my life punishing myself. I couldn’t protect her how I should’ve, and because of that, I believed that I didn’t deserve a happiness she could never experience.”
“You thought because she wasn’t here, you shouldn’t live either,” she says softly as if she understands completely.
I nod. “My parents don’t know she did it on purpose. There was a note; the sheriff found it and handed it to me personally. Wouldn’t change the outcome of nothin’ and would only hurt my parents more, so I decided to keep it to myself. Sheriff didn’t tell a soul, either. Mom and Dad think she just got hit. Think it was an accident.”
“Oh god, Atti, what a weight to bear,” she says knowingly as if she feels the heft of truth as much as I do.