Page 28 of All of Him
“You said you needed to laugh,” she said flatly.
“Nothing about my car accident was funny.”
I grabbed my shirt and threw it back over my head, leaving Amanda in the bathroom alone. Bless her heart, she still followed me, but she gave me enough space to huff and puff. I could feel a mild flutter in my chest, but I knew it wouldn’t turn into a full-on panic attack. Still, I needed to sit down.
“I’m sorry,” Amanda said, following me outside and joining me on my back steps. “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”
I shrugged, not sure of how to answer her. Instead, I leaned my head against the railing and listened to the sounds of the country. The sun had started to set, and the sky was a bright orange and purple in the distance.
“Jesus, that’s a good sunset.”
I nodded.
“You do this a lot?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “I’ve probably seen hundreds of sunsets, sitting right here.”
Amanda leaned back, her hands behind her, and took a deep breath. She let it out slowly, commanding my attention in her direction. I stared at her for a second, admiring her ski-slope nose, then shook myself out of it.
“Your dad did a good job with the railings,” I managed to get out. “You can hardly tell where he had to replace some.”
“He always does a good job,” she answered, her eyes forward.
I waited for her to continue, but it seemed like she was waiting formeto say something. Her silence, though unexpected, reassured me that we wouldn’t end every encounter with an argument. I was hopeful that I’d actually have someone to lean on if I needed it. Not that I deserved it—her. She was better than me—she always would be. Even with how pushy she could be, I felt like her worth far outweighed mine.
“I want to…” I started, hesitant. “Ineedto tell you something. But I don’t want to talk about it after I tell you. Is that okay?”
Amanda nodded, her eyes finding mine in the dimming light.
“And I’m only really telling you because you seem to keep bringing it up. I feel like, if you know what happened, you won’t bring it up anymore.”
Amanda bit her lip, embarrassed.
“I’m sorry. I just— ”
“You’re nosy.” I laughed sarcastically. “It’s not a horrible thing. But every time you bring it up, I have to go through the memory, and I don’t fucking want to.”
“Okay,” she said quietly, much more subdued than I’d ever seen her.
She hugged her knees to her chest but kept her eyes on the side of my face as I looked away. I felt them bore a hole into my cheek, my skin burning, but her presence only encouraged me to continue.
“The accident I was in?” I started, hoping to God that my voice didn’t crack. “It killed my brother. That’s why I don’t want to talk about it.”
I turned to look at Amanda, who was suddenly covering her cheeks and staring forward. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Do you get it now?”
“I could never get it,” she scoffed, angry with herself. “But I am so—”
“Don’t apologize,” I stopped her. “Just don’t bring it up. Is there more shit I want to talk to you about eventually? Yes. I’ll let you in slowly. But you also need to be aware that being friends with me is not going to be easy.”
“I’ve been around you enough times now to have figured that out.” She smiled. “But you seem worth knowing.”
I smiled back at her genuinely, though I wasn’t sure she would be prepared for the full onslaught of my emotions. I wasn’t even sure how much I was going to share. I only knew that I finally had someone willing to listen—or rather, I was finally going toletsomeone listen.
“There’s that smile again. Wait!” Amanda took out her phone and snapped a picture of me, laughing once she got it.
“Why do you want a picture of my stupid face?” I asked, shaking my head.
