A Short Story: The Truth

Part Six

      The two of us remained that way for what seemed like hours, but was probably only thirty minutes or so. Just sitting in the pew, alone in an empty room, the boy who I'd only spoken to only a few times had his arms wrapped around me in a way that I so desperately needed. As time went on, I slowly settled down. The tears fell down my cheeks less frequently, my breathing steadied, and finally, I was calm enough to unlatch Chandler's arms from around my body. When I pulled away, and he let go, the space where his arms had previously been were cold, the chilly air occupying the room capturing my body. It gave me chills, and I wrapped my arms around my bare shoulders, exposed from the dress I was wearing. Chandler noticed, and took his suit jacket off, placing it on my shoulders. I slipped my arms through the holes, smiling slightly at him as warmth overwhelmed me through the sleeves of his coat. He was an attractive boy, a year older than me, and much taller. While I was on the shorter side of the scale, and being taller than me didn't mean much, he was tall, measuring at six feet. His hair was slightly curly, which I loved, a somewhat dark shade of brown. His eyes matched, but were much lighter, looking almost green when he was in the right lighting. His skin was tan, the opposite of mine, and he was truly amazing. We had known of each other for years, but weren't very close. Up until that point, we were merely acquaintances, connected because of our fathers; however, I knew that we would never be that way again. The moment we had just shared was more intimate than anything I had ever experienced, and I must admit: my behavior in front of him was a bit embarrassing. Running these thoughts trough my head and worrying what he thought of me, I could feel my face blushing.

     "What is it?," he said with a smirk.

     "I'm sorry you had to see all of that. I guess it's a little embarrassing."

     I didn't know quite what to say, having just allowed my brain to recuperate. He seemed to understand, though, as he had a patient look in his eye.

     "Sweetie, don't be embarrassed. I don't blame you for acting the way that you did, and it's really admirable that you had enough bravery to do what you did today."

     I could see the wheels turning in his head, and I became nervous. I didn't know what he would say, but a sad, sympathetic look soon overcame his face, and it was upsetting to think that it was because of me.

     "It just pains me to know that you went through everything you said. I can tell you've never really, truly gotten it out though; you've never told anyone the truth."

     He paused, carefully considering and stringing together each letter to form his statements. It was adorable really, the way that his nose scrunched up when he was concentrating.

     "Let's go somewhere, Charlie. Let's get away from here and talk about it. I want to help you through this, because it makes me sick to think you're fighting this alone. What do you say?"

     I was shocked, to say the least. But through my amazement, I mustered the energy to give a slight nod and a smile to match. Chandler was right; I had never told anyone about the things I shared during the funeral, and it was extremely difficult to have it all flow out at once without being worked through or understood. It seemed that he understood me, although he had only been fed a small dose of the insanity that my father brought into my life. Chandler stood up first, and held my hand while I did the same, steadying me when my feet were unsure. As we started walking, he didn't let go of my hand, but lead me down to the parking lot where I had been filled with fear and dread just a few hours before. We continued walking for a few feet, until Chandler broke the silence.

     "Where's your car, sweetie?"

     "It's over there, in the lot across the street." I said, pointing. "I don't think I can drive, not right now. It's too hard to focus."

     Chandler smiled, and held his hand out to take my keys. He told me to stay put as he crossed the road and came back with the car. When he slowed to a halt, he got out of the car and lead me around to the passenger seat. He opened my door, helped me in, and even buckled my seat belt for me. I felt almost infantile; I appreciated him, though, and I enjoyed depending on someone else for a change. We had a quiet drive, with only a few disruptions. About halfway to our destination, which I had no idea of yet, Chandler stopped at a stop sign and looked over at me with an adorable smile on his face.

     "You look so beautiful, Charlie."

     I smiled, the first real, genuine grin I had cracked all day. Not knowing what to say, my face seemed to communicate all that was necessary, because Chandler reached over and grabbed my hand as he continued driving. The rest of the way there, he made relaxing circles with his thumb on the back of my hand; I underestimated the impact of that, and it sent butterflies through my stomach. Within twenty minutes of leaving the church, we were pulling into a small, cozy looking shop called Coffee Oasis, which I had never been to. Looking through the window, I could see tables with vintage looking, wooden chairs, and in a corner, there sat cushioned seats. The place seemed to be empty, and as he cranked the car off, Chandler said four words that would change my life forever.

     "Well, here we are."