Run(50)

“That’s great, Christy. Congratulations.”

“Thanks … I almost called you. When he did it. For some reason I really wanted to tell you, but …” She trailed off, cleared her throat, then turned on her own faucet. “Anyway. We’re not gonna get married for a while. Maybe summer after next.”

It was so surreal, after our fight back in the fall, to be standing with Christy, having a quiet, friendly conversation. After a month or two of her ignoring me, I’d eventually realized Christy and me weren’t friends anymore. It sounds silly, but I guess I’d assumed we’d eventually work it out. Not that we’d ever be the way we had been before, but … I hadn’t realized it was over until it had been over for a while.

I never really thought we’d talk again after all this time. And certainly didn’t think she would be showing me her ring and covering for me when Mama called to check in.

Which was a whole other problem. I’d honestly thought I was safe on New Year’s Eve. That telling a simple lie would be enough. Clearly, I was underestimating how close an eye my parents wanted to keep on me. I didn’t even think that was possible.

I rinsed my hands and turned off the water. I was halfway to the paper towel dispenser when I couldn’t hold it in anymore and had to spin around and ask, “Why did you lie for me?”

Christy sighed and shut off her own faucet. “I don’t know,” she said. “I guess I just … Your parents have always been so overprotective. It used to drive me crazy. And it drove me crazy even more because you wouldn’t do anything about it. I guess I was kinda proud of you for breaking the rules.”

I almost pointed out the irony of that. The big fight we had was about sin, and here she was saying she was proud of me for disobeying my parents. But we’d done so well being friendly, and I didn’t wanna fight with her again. So I just nodded and said, “Well, thank you.”

“But …” She hesitated. “Look, I know I’m the last person you probably care to listen to right now. It’s just … I’m glad you’re fighting their rules because they’re ridiculous sometimes, but lying to them won’t change a thing.”

“Christy …”

“I’m not always gonna be there to answer the phone when they call,” she said. “You gotta talk to them, Agnes.”

I groaned. “Yeah. Bo says the same thing.”

“Wow. Never thought I’d agree with Bo Dickinson on anything.” And I heard that touch of meanness in her voice again, that old Christy was all too familiar. But then she let out a breath and said, “You just got to stand up to them, Agnes. The way you stood up to me.”

I didn’t have a clue what to say to that. I didn’t know if I was supposed to say anything. Luckily, the bell rang and gave me an excuse to keep quiet.

I dried my hands and tossed the paper towel in the trash. “Bye,” I said over my shoulder as I moved toward the door.

“Bye,” she replied. And then, just as the door was shutting, I heard her say one last thing. It wasn’t an apology for the things she’d said about Bo. Or for the way she’d treated me like a burden. I doubted I’d ever get that from her. But I did get something. Three quiet words I almost didn’t hear.

“I miss you.”

And, for me, that was enough.



It was February before I saw or heard from Colt again.

My parents had driven Bo and me to Marty’s on a Saturday, even though I’d assured them we could walk. It was only a quarter mile down the road from our house, after all. And Daddy was always talking about how expensive gas was. But Mama insisted, saying the sidewalks were too slick—even though they’d all been shoveled well since the last snow a few days ago—and that she’d just “feel better” if someone drove us.

Which also meant she’d be picking us up in an hour.

As Bo and I sat down in a booth with our fries and Cokes, Christy’s words from a month earlier were whirling around in my brain. Had my parents really always been this overprotective? Had I just not noticed or cared much until Bo came along?

I was thinking so hard about this that I didn’t even notice the sound of a truck pulling up outside or the bells jingling over the front door. Bo must’ve, though, because she hollered Colt’s name real loud and jumped out of the booth, running across the tiny restaurant to him.

“Thought I might find y’all here,” he said, giving her a hug.

Then the two of them headed back to the booth where I was sitting, frozen in midmotion as I reached for a fry.

I hadn’t really thought about what it might be like seeing him again after what had happened on New Year’s. Somehow, I guess I’d just assumed I wouldn’t. Which, thinking about it now, was silly. He lived only a couple hours away, and of course he’d come back to see his mama and Bo sometimes. Still, I wasn’t quite prepared.

Also, I hadn’t told Bo about us sleeping together. I’d wanted to. Almost did on a few occasions. But every time I started to open my mouth, I chickened out. I didn’t want Bo thinking I was some dramatic, needy girl who made a big deal about having sex. Not when she had so much experience and seemed to act like it was no big deal. I worried that if I told her about Colt, I’d also start telling her about how confused I felt. About how I’d always planned to lose my virginity to somebody I might have a future with. But, at the same time, I was happy I’d done it with Colt. And I did like him, but he was so far away and I had no idea what he thought of me and …