Ripe

Chapter 15

♪Chapter Song♪

"Bonfires" by Blue Foundation

(I do not own this song)

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CHAPTER 15

"YOU MEAN RIGHT now?" I ask, my lips parting in complete bewilderment, eyes growing thrice in size. "I told you that you don't have to tell me or anything," I remind him softly. "Don't feel obligated to take me to her."

I won't lie; I want to meet his mother so much, it's crazy. I wouldn't expect him to want me to meet her, considering she doesn't seem to have a physical appearance in his life. I want to know why he is who he is, I want to see where his green eyes were passed from. At least from my point of view, that is.

Andy looks me over with bizarre eyes. He gives off this distant look, gazing from me, then aimlessly off into the distance, then back at me. His eyes are a mixture of intense emotions, and seeing him like this scares the crap out of me.

"It's been weighing down on me, Will," he says, sounding deeply wounded, "and I haven't spoken about everything in years. I feel this everlasting, always existant force on my shoulders, like I'm carrying my world on my shoulders, and technically, I am. Like I'm my own personal Atlas."

I tilt my chin. "This does and doesn't make sense. What I guess I don't understand is: if things are weighing down on you, why do you want me to meet your mother? And why do you want me to meet her now?" I ask, completely confused. "I know that you need me, and God knows I'm not going to stand here and do nothing while you are hurting, but I just don't understand—" I ramble, looking at anywhere but him, until he cuts me off. Andrew grabs my face gently, forcing me to look at him.

"Please, come with me," he says. His thumbs stroke acoss my lips. "I feel like I'm about to explode. I need you to be my EOD."

"I'll be your EOD, if you'll be mine," I murmur softly. "I'll go with you. I'll meet your mom."

With his hands still holding my face, Andrew plants a kiss on my left temple. He then pulls his fingers from my face and down to my hands. "Let's go, then," he says in a subdued tone. "I'll drive."

I stop him before he can take the wheel. "I'll drive, Andy. You look like you might not be stable enough to drive." Why are you so nervous? I want to ask.

Andrew shakes his head in refusal. He straps himself into the front seat of my car and pulls off as soon as my seatbelt clicks. I'm thrown back against the seat. A grunt escapes my lips at the force and I shoot Andrew a look.

"I'm sorry," he utters, driving us out and away from school.

We travel for five minutes before either one of us says anything more. It's not exactly uncomfortable; it's more like a few moments for us to think without an interruption. By the way that his brow is creased and on hand is tapping against the armrest, I know he's thinking too deeply.

What is it about him and his mom that makes him so jittery? And why doesn't he say anything about his father? And how come he doesn't speak of them? I wonder if they abandoned him and he's trying to come to terms with it. All of my speculations are open-ended. In the end, I'm sure my questions with be answered.

With the smooth movement of my hand, I slip my hand into his nervous one. Even as our fingers are interlaced, his nerves jump against my skin.

It makes my heart quench to see and feel him act this way.

"Where does your mom live?" I ask, curious for two reasons: one, so I know how far we have to travel, and  two, so I can see how far of a distance they put apart from each other.