𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝙰𝚜 𝚈𝚘𝚞

𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗

| 𝙸 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 |

Friday morning, I was on a mission. I slipped out of the house early before anyone was up and moving, I couldn't risk them asking where I was going. My feet carry me to Pershing Park where Bob's blue Mustang sat. He'd sit in the park hoping I would come by, I noticed it maybe a week or two after the breakup, but I'd never done anything about it before today.

I open the door and slide into the passenger seat. Bob stares straight ahead, either afraid or ashamed to look at me.

"I've been sitting here every day for three months hoping you'll come." He says after a while. He still hasn't looked at me.

"I know. It's hard to miss a Mustang on this side of the tracks."

We sit in silence once more, during which I notice the lingering smell of perfume. It wasn't Beverly's obnoxious Dior that she stole from her mother, and it didn't smell like Marcia's perfume.

"Cherry's been in here, hasn't she?" I question.

"I give her a ride home after practice." He nods. "Nothing more."

I nod, licking my lips. "How long is Paul in town for?"

"He leaves in two weeks. I told him I didn't want him hanging around anymore. Trip, Brill, or Chet either. Randy told me I was an idiot. I am."

I finally turn to face him. He remained facing the windshield. He looked awful. His eyes were rimmed with red and he had a five o'clock shadow on his jawline. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, not that I could judge him, I hadn't slept either.

"You are." I agree. "An idiot who drinks too much and threw away everything we'd worked on for Paul Holden, some nobody who only got into college because his parents paid his way in to get him out of their lives. You're not a nobody, Bob, don't let Paul pull you down to his level."

"I tried to run after you that night, but Paul and Brill held me back. They told me that I was too good for some greasy trash." He shuts his eyes at the words. "I swung at them, busted my hand up too. I told them you were the best thing that ever happened to me."

He finally looks over at me, tears building up in his eyes. "I miss you, Sunny. I know I fucked up. We'd been drinking, Paul kept supplying it and I just couldn't say no. We came up on the vacant lot and saw Johnny looking for something and it just escalated from there. Brill threw the flask on him and before I knew it, we were just beating on him. It was like I wasn't in control of my own body. I couldn't stop it."

He started to cry after that, hiding his face in his hands. I feel myself reach out and pull his hands away, looking him in the eyes. "You made a mistake Bob," I tell him softly, against my better judgment. "We all make them. You were drunk, alcohol is an inebriant, it interferes with the communication pathways in your brain. It changes your mood and behavior, it makes it hard to think properly. You were a slave to the bottle and Paul was supplying it."