The Highest Summit © | ✅

Chapter 26: Burying the hatchet

Bobbi

The weekend Sam and I spent together at the cabin was one of the best things I've ever experienced. Not only did we make love for the first time, but we also talked about our future together. We both know that we are young and a lot can happen, but I can't imagine my life without him. We are more than just boyfriend and girlfriend, we became best friends, partners in everything we do, we confide in each other, we are there for one another. I don't care what mom or Melinda or anyone for that matter thinks. Let them think this is just a teenage infatuation that will fade as soon as Sam goes to college or I pack my stuff and climb a mountain. He and I know better and that's all that matters.

History class is as boring as ever. I look outside the window and look over the soccer field. Instantly, I remember the events of Friday night when Marisol was raped. I shudder at the memory. She and I aren't friends, but I don't wish something like that to anyone. I know from Adele that Marisol was released Saturday afternoon after the police got her statement of the events. The girls told me that her father came to school and talked to the principal. Apparently, Marisol will be home schooled until she feels better. I guess they will keep her home until after the Christmas season and classes are resumed.

Sam has soccer practice this afternoon and gave me his truck to drive home. He will get a ride with Alex anyway. On my way home I pass Marisol's house. I know it's hers because Adele pointed it out a few weeks ago.

I decide to pay her a visit. I don't know why, but it feels like the right thing to do. I park the truck in their drive way and get out. I slowly walk to the front door and ring their doorbell. I wait for about a minute until someone opens the door, a man, presumably her father.

"Can I help you?" he asks not particularly harsh, but a bit unfriendly.

"Uhm, my name is Bobbi. Bobbi Moore. I go to the same school as your daughter," I say a little awkward. What was I thinking? Why did I even stop?

"Bobbi?" he asks and his expression softens. "You were the one who helped my daughter," he says and before I know it he pulls me into his arms embracing me tightly. What is going on?

"Who is it, dear?" I hear a female voice. Mr. Alvarez lets go of me and turns around slightly.

"Honey, this is Bobbi Moore, the girl who helped our Marisol," he says. I watch the woman, Mrs. Alvarez, look from her husband to me and her eyes fill with tears. Immediately her husband rushes to her and hugs her. This is awkward, at least for me.

"Excuse us, Bobbi," Mrs. Alvarez says. "Please, come in. I'll tell Marisol that you came to visit," she says sniffing.

"No, wait," I say and they both look at me surprised. "I mean, Marisol and I aren't really friends. I just wanted to check on her and if there is anything I can do, please tell me," I say and her mother starts crying.

"Don't cry, mi vida," Mr. Alvarez says softly to his wife. "Forgive her, Bobbi," he says apologetically and I just wave my hand in a dismissive gesture.

"What are you doing here?" Marisol asks abrasively as she comes to the front door.

"Mija, don't be rude," Mr. Alvarez scolds her a little.

"Did you come to laugh at me?" she asks me with rage in her eyes.

"No," I say appalled. I should feel angry that she even implies something like that, but she is hurt and needs a punching bag to get her frustration out. I watch as several emotions cross Marisol's face – anger, rage, desperation, hurt, defeat. I don't know why, but my legs moved on their own and I'm now hugging Marisol tightly. She doesn't move at first but then she starts sobbing and wraps her arms tightly around me. She starts crying and I let her. I feel her parents wrap themselves around us and they all start crying. Okay, this is definitely awkward, but I wouldn't change this moment for anything. It's like I'm seeing the human that is actually Marisol instead of the Barbie doll she always pretends to be.