Run(48)

And Colt wasn’t making things easier. I couldn’t see faces real well, but I’d gotten pretty good at reading the energy in the room. And Colt’s energy was uncomfortable. I might not have regretted last night, but maybe he did. Maybe he was wishing he hadn’t slept with some stupid high school girl. Did he think I wanted him to be my boyfriend now?

Did I want him to be my boyfriend now?

The truck came to a stop as we pulled up in front of Bo’s trailer. We both just sat there for a minute, the engine idling.

“So …” Colt said.

“So … You’re leaving tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. I’m … sorry.”

“For what? Leaving?”

“I guess.”

I let out a breath.

“Or, I dunno,” Colt said.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

Another long pause.

I swallowed. “So, I guess this is good-bye, then.”

“Yeah. Reckon it is.”

I finally got the nerve to look at him, and he was looking right back at me. And I started wondering how I was supposed to get out of this truck. Was I supposed to kiss him good-bye? Or just wave? Waving seemed kinda weird. But maybe kissing him did, too.

After neither of us moved for a second, I cleared my throat. “Um, I should …”

“Yeah. All right.”

I reached for the handle and opened the door. But before I’d unfolded my cane, Colt said, “Agnes?” And I turned back again.

He learned forward and kissed me. On the cheek, not the mouth. Which was even more confusing, really. “I hope y’all work it out,” he said.

“Thanks. Me too.” I slid out of the truck and looked back up one last time before shutting the door. “See you, Colt.”

I stood in the yard and watched the truck drive away. Then I took a deep breath and tried to get myself together. I was here to see Bo. I should be thinking about her, not what I’d done with her cousin.

I tugged my coat a little tighter and turned around, heading for the front door. Just like last time, Utah started barking the minute I knocked. And a second later, the front door swung open.

“Agnes? What’re you doing here?” She didn’t sound angry, just surprised. Like she didn’t think I’d show up. Like she didn’t expect me to come and apologize.

“Colt dropped me off,” I told her. And I hoped saying his name didn’t make me blush. “I’m sorry. I know it’s early. I just … Bo, I shouldn’t have said that last night. The truth is, everything you were saying—all those adventures you had planned—those all sound great. Better than great. And I want to go on all of them with you. But I knew there was no way, so I got mad. And I’m real sorry.”

Bo sighed. “Well, it ain’t like anything you said was a lie.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“Yeah … Me too,” she said. “I shouldn’t have kept pushing.”

“You know if I could go, I would.”

“Yeah … Guess I just don’t know what it’s like to have parents like yours.”

“Ones that smother you half to death?”

“Ones that care.”

“Care too much.” There was a long pause where Bo didn’t reply, so finally I asked, “Do you wanna come back to my house? It’s freezing out here, and Mama always makes a big dinner on New Year’s Day.”

“Uh, sure. I guess. But don’t your folks think you’re with Christy?”

“I called and asked Gracie to pick me up at the church. My folks think Christy’s volunteering there again today. I’ll just tell them you walked by and I invited you over.”

Bo laughed. “You’re getting awful good at the lying.”

She said it like it was a compliment, but I wasn’t so sure if lying was something I wanted to get good at.

Utah followed us to the church. There was snow on the ground, the sidewalks hadn’t been shoveled just yet, and it crunched beneath my boots. Next to me, I could hear Bo’s teeth chattering, and I wondered how many years she’d gone without a real winter coat or boots. But I didn’t think that was the sort of thing I ought to be asking right then, so instead, we both stayed quiet.

We were standing on the front steps, waiting for my sister, when Bo said, so quiet I almost didn’t hear, “Thank you for coming today.”

“Of course. Did you think I’d just say something like that and never come apologize?”

She didn’t answer, and I realized that’s exactly what she thought. That we’d fight and never talk again. That I’d leave her, like so many others had before me.

“You’re the most important person in my life, Bo Dickinson,” I said. “I don’t know if I could make it without you. So no matter what we fight about, I’ll still be around.”

She leaned her head on my shoulder just as a fresh flurry of snowflakes began to fall. “I got a better idea,” she said. “Let’s promise to never fight again.”

“All right. I think I like that plan. So last night was the first and the last fight you and me will ever have.”

“Promise?” she asked.

“I promise.”