Hit By A Truck

Ron

6:59

"Well, you see, I met a person." I finally muttered.

Pierre looked at me incredulously. I guess I did make a big deal about meeting a person, but then again, I was more of the procrastination type. I never got fully to the point.

I sighed, trying to calm my incoming head ache. I restarted. "Well, you see... I met Roland's friend."

Pierre was silent for a moment. He seemed stunned, and kind of disbelieving. He looked out the window for about thirteen seconds before he looked back at me, gulped, and said,

"You mean, Roland as in my brother?"

I nodded.

He sighed, and put a hand to his forehead. My heartbeat quickened, realising how much I'd upset him.

"I'm sorry." I muttered softly, but he just shrugged.

"It's really not your fault. What were you saying?"

"They want to meet you." I replied. "They have something to say. I think Louisa would be delighted to meet them."

Pierre gulped once more, then sighed, and then stared up at the roof. Finally, he looked back down at his hands, fiddling with a string, but he didn't look at me. "You know, I never knew them much, but I don't like them," he murmured at last.

They seemed nice enough, but then again, people always put on masks and shields. "Why not?" I used the same hushed tone that Pierre was using.

He looked up from his hands, at me. "They didn't come to my brother's funeral. The three of them were always together, they barely ever separated, and they weren't awkward with each other at all. Even though they'd only met that year in school, it felt like they'd known each other forever.

"Longer than I'd known Roland." Pierre unclenched his fists and stared at the empty land of his palm.

I let him finish.

"I wasn't just jealous of them. I was more looking up to them. Like, maybe someday Roland and I would get along with each other like that. After he died, though, they never came to his funeral.

"I thought, 'What a whole bunch of hypocrites.'"

There was nothing to say. How do you respond to something like that? I didn't say anything. Instead, I just slid my hand into his. "Are you going to go?" I whispered softly.

He flinched at first, then leaned his weight onto me. He didn't move either of our hands, which were interlocked on his lap. "Maybe." He whispered back.

"It's fine if you don't." I whispered. "Even if they right didn't actually do anything wrong, you don't have to enter a world that causes you that much pain."

Pierre frowned, but didn't pull back. "No, they're not wrong. They both were nice people. They were never bad. I just- I think I'll-"

"Hold on a second." I interrupted him. "You'll always be part of your brother's world. You just don't need to enter his friends' world, no matter what they're about to say."

Pierre looked up at me faithfully, and then shrugged. "I guess you're right. You're right, but... I'll still go."

I shrugged this time, and pulled back. He wasn't shaking anymore, and seemed calmer. "If you say so then."