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Authors: Sloan Johnson
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sorry.” I try to make light of the situation because I can see her starting to think and that’s not allowed tonight. We step into the elevator and I move us so her back is pressed to my chest in the corner. “It was never about not wanting you. Never. ”
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I rush ahead of Lea so I can open the door for her. After all the talk I made about Bowie being a dick and her deserving a man who would treat her like she’s the center of the world, I have to make sure I live up to that standard.
Neither of us speak as I make my way out of the city. We’ll eventually loop back to Veteran’s Hill, but first, I have to make a quick stop. It’s probably a date-night event that would wind up on some list of worst dates ever, but Lea knows me well enough that I have faith she’ll understand why I need to do this. She glances over at me nervously when she realizes where we’re going, tenderly reaching for my hand without saying a word.
I haven’t been here since the day we buried Paulie. Reaching in the backseat for a six-pack, I open Lea’s door. “We fought about you that night,” I tell her sullenly as we walk between rows of stone markers. This is the first time I’ve told anyone, even Lea, why I have carried so much guilt about Paulie’s accident.
“About me?” She chokes on the words, almost as overcome with memories as I am.
“He knew,” I admit, kneeling in front of the simple headstone. “He and Robby have known since the beginning. And Paulie…fuck, I think he loved you almost as much as I do. He said I was an asshole for trying to tell myself I was staying away from your for your sake. After a few too many drinks, he unleashed that night because you saw me kissing Toni and I made you cry. I told him to fuck off and he left.”
Swallowing hard, I take a minute to compose myself because I really want to cry all of the tears I never allowed myself after the accident. I was the one who could have stopped him. I should have stopped him. But I was so pissed at him for pushing me, I watched him walk out the door. Robby and Eric followed him out to his car, where he managed to convince both of them that he was fine to drive. “After he was gone, it was even harder for me to admit what I felt because it would be like saying Paulie was right. If I had said that that night, he’d still be here.”
Fuck, I told her I was going to screw up this dating thing, and I’m sure proving that to her. Who brings a girl to the cemetery and lays this shit on her? Me. Paulie was right, I’m an idiot.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Lea says sweetly, sitting next to me. Knowing it’s what other guys from our tight group do when they come out here, she reaches into the paper sack, pulling out three cans of beer.
Some might find it disrespectful to have a drink at the grave of a man who died because he was drunk, but Robby and some of the other guys started this months after he died. One beer per person, never more. She skillfully cracks the top on each can, handing one to me.
“To Paulie, almost always the voice of reason,” she says, holding her can in the air. She turns so she’s facing the headstone, speaking to our friend now. “I’m still pissed at you for what you did, but thank you for sticking up for me.”
She tips the can back, making a sour face after the first draw. She’s never been a fan of beer, and swore she would never drink it again after last night, and yet, she’s sitting here choking the liquid down because it’s what we do. She turns to me, taking my free hand in hers. “He’s the one who drove that night. You can’t blame yourself for what happened.”
The summer sun sinks below the horizon as we swap stories about Paulie. It feels good to be here with her. It might be fucked up to most people, but in my mind, it’s like we’re here, showing him that we figured out our shit, even if it took a while. The guilt has taken up permanent residence
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I rush ahead of Lea so I can open the door for her. After all the talk I made about Bowie being a dick and her deserving a man who would treat her like she’s the center of the world, I have to make sure I live up to that standard.
Neither of us speak as I make my way out of the city. We’ll eventually loop back to Veteran’s Hill, but first, I have to make a quick stop. It’s probably a date-night event that would wind up on some list of worst dates ever, but Lea knows me well enough that I have faith she’ll understand why I need to do this. She glances over at me nervously when she realizes where we’re going, tenderly reaching for my hand without saying a word.
I haven’t been here since the day we buried Paulie. Reaching in the backseat for a six-pack, I open Lea’s door. “We fought about you that night,” I tell her sullenly as we walk between rows of stone markers. This is the first time I’ve told anyone, even Lea, why I have carried so much guilt about Paulie’s accident.
“About me?” She chokes on the words, almost as overcome with memories as I am.
“He knew,” I admit, kneeling in front of the simple headstone. “He and Robby have known since the beginning. And Paulie…fuck, I think he loved you almost as much as I do. He said I was an asshole for trying to tell myself I was staying away from your for your sake. After a few too many drinks, he unleashed that night because you saw me kissing Toni and I made you cry. I told him to fuck off and he left.”
Swallowing hard, I take a minute to compose myself because I really want to cry all of the tears I never allowed myself after the accident. I was the one who could have stopped him. I should have stopped him. But I was so pissed at him for pushing me, I watched him walk out the door. Robby and Eric followed him out to his car, where he managed to convince both of them that he was fine to drive. “After he was gone, it was even harder for me to admit what I felt because it would be like saying Paulie was right. If I had said that that night, he’d still be here.”
Fuck, I told her I was going to screw up this dating thing, and I’m sure proving that to her. Who brings a girl to the cemetery and lays this shit on her? Me. Paulie was right, I’m an idiot.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Lea says sweetly, sitting next to me. Knowing it’s what other guys from our tight group do when they come out here, she reaches into the paper sack, pulling out three cans of beer.
Some might find it disrespectful to have a drink at the grave of a man who died because he was drunk, but Robby and some of the other guys started this months after he died. One beer per person, never more. She skillfully cracks the top on each can, handing one to me.
“To Paulie, almost always the voice of reason,” she says, holding her can in the air. She turns so she’s facing the headstone, speaking to our friend now. “I’m still pissed at you for what you did, but thank you for sticking up for me.”
She tips the can back, making a sour face after the first draw. She’s never been a fan of beer, and swore she would never drink it again after last night, and yet, she’s sitting here choking the liquid down because it’s what we do. She turns to me, taking my free hand in hers. “He’s the one who drove that night. You can’t blame yourself for what happened.”
The summer sun sinks below the horizon as we swap stories about Paulie. It feels good to be here with her. It might be fucked up to most people, but in my mind, it’s like we’re here, showing him that we figured out our shit, even if it took a while. The guilt has taken up permanent residence
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