Australians Don't Belong in Indiana

Explain it to me

As he drove, a million thoughts racked my brain. I was scared as hell but I was doing everything not to show it. I attempted to keep a straight face. I couldn't allow him to see my shaken up. That was my weakness. He said he wasn't going to hurt me. I trusted him? No. Yes. I took a deep breath and tried to reach the part of me that was defending him just the night before. When I pulled myself back to reality, I noticed we were slowing down.

We pulled up to a small pasture-like area. I figured this wasn't Drew's first time here. He stepped out of the car and it was wondering if I was supposed to follow or not. He walked around to the passenger side door, opened it, grabbed me by the wrist, and pulled me out of the car. He shut the passenger-side door and, without a word, tightened his grasp on my small wrist and pulled me off into the woods behind the pasture. I spotted a couple cows on the walk over, but decided not to question it.

After walking for what felt like a long time into the depths of the woods, he let go of my wrist, turned and looked me in the eye. My first thought was to run back and not look over my shoulder, for fear he would follow me. My plans changed when he looked me in the eyes with his stunning blue eyes. The innocence in his eyes was unbearable. My heart broke when I realized that the entire town, including myself in the not so distant past, believed this poor boy was dangerous. I almost broke down into tears, but I knew I had to keep my head together long enough to let him talk.      

"I can explain," is what he said to me.                                                        

It took me a minute to get myself together and think of a response. In my head, I was thinking of speeches compromised of several apologies for what I had said to him just a couple hours ago, but all that came out was,

"Okay."

"I'm not crazy," he began, "and my dad is not a murderer."

I pondered the idea for a moment, but no thinking was needed. I believed him. There was no doubt in my mind that Drew was lying to me. He looked at me like he was expecting me to be upset with him, or at least scared. 

To end the awkwardness, I responded with,"I believe you. How do you know your dad didn't do it?"

He did not hesitate to answer the question.

"I was with him the night of the murders."

I paused for a moment before replying, "Are you insane? Why didn't you tell the cops that?"

Drew looked at me and said, "I tried. I'm not an idiot. They told me that his prints were all over the body. That no one else could have committed the crime."

"Oh," was all that could come out of my mouth. There were so many things running through my mind, but none of them seemed to be coming out.

"Yeah," Drew continued as if there was no tension, "My dad gets blamed for a stranger's criminal acts and everyone automatically assumes that I'm just like him."

I wanted to say how sorry I was, and I opened my mouth to say it, but instead I threw my arms around him and embraced him in a hug. It was a few a moments later when he wrapped his arms around me and that is when I realized that I was crying. I wonder if he had noticed. While still embracing me in a hug he said to me,

"You are the first person to hug me in a long time."

His grip around me got tighter as he pulled me closer to his body. I could hold onto that moment forever. 

Although I didn't want to let go of his hold around my waist, I pulled away and he looked me in the eyes with an apologetic smile and said, "Why are you crying?"

It took me a moment to respond as he stuck up his right hand and brushed away the tears that had fallen from my eyes.

"I'm just... I'm so sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry about? You are the most understanding person I have met in a long time, and that's a lot considering I have only known you for a couple days," he said in an attempt to comfort me.

"I just feel like I'm a terrible person and I'm so sorry."

"I don't blame you for anything that has happened. Don't be sorry."

Those were the last words of the conversation before he and I got back in his Mustang and he drove me to the school so I could retrieve my Jeep and go back home. It was now surprisingly 5:00 in the afternoon. We had spent an hour and a half together since school let out, but it felt like minutes. All I wanted was to be with him again. And although I thought he was a murderer 2 hours ago, there was still a part of me that never doubted that he was innocent. I can't wait for the next time I get to feel his arms around my waist.