the stars

viii.

that morning, when gus was sat on the front steps of the front porch of his house, darla walked by the fence and walked in though the gate.

he watched as she came towards him, an expression he'd never encountered before latched across her face.

when she sat next to him he just stared (because staring at this sort of time is somewhat helpful). she looked at him and they stared together at one another.

"gus, i'm sorry."

he blinked. he figured the expression may have been something like guilt. a word, that his vocabulary was not able to skim and find.

but he wondered why it was she that was apologising. for all he knew, it was he who should have been.

so he did what he thought was right.

"no, i'm sorry." no hesitation, no lip-biting, and the words managed to come out slowly and audible, just as he'd hoped.

"what?" the words stuttered from her lips.

"i'm sorry. i should listen to you more."

"but-"

"no," gus tried not to sound too stern, but it came out sounding like it was. "it's okay. i'm sorry."

"then we're both sorry." she held out her hand and gus switched glances between her expression and her hand questioningly.

"what's that for?"

"we shake hands when we forgive each other." she said.

"really?"

"well, i don't know. that's what daddy said to do."

somehow, this made him think as if she'd been planning to apologise all along, but hadn't found the time or the right place.

who knew that his front porch would serve in favour and stitch the gap between two friends?

he smiled and reached out his arms to hug her instead, in which he replied, "well this is what my dad does when he forgives somebody."

darla smiled.