Our Voice 8

by Scot McAtee

  ~

  “So where do you want to go?” I questioned buckling into the car.

  “I don’t know, you suggested hanging out,” Her tone was very plain. I wondered what was getting her down.

  “Are you okay?”

  She slammed on her breaks. The road wasn’t very busy so she stayed in the road. Jensen ran her hands threw her hair and hit her forehead on the steering wheel. I sat there not sure of what to do. She turned her head to me, then back, and then sighed.

  “You know my secret?” Jensen sat up staring at the road, probably because it was easier than to look at me.

  “Yes,” my mouth was dry; my voice came out as a whisper.

  “It drove him away, I did it. It’s my fault. I sat down with my parents. I explained it to them. My mother started crying. My father said, “You’re not my daughter. There are no sinners in my house,” and got up and walked out. I tore my family apart,” she put her face in her palms and began sobbing.

  I didn’t know what to do. My tongue couldn’t move to make words. I couldn’t process what she said. I leaned over to turn her to me, so I could hug her. She sobbed on my shoulder and hugged me tightly. I petted her hair and shushed her soothingly.

  “I know nothing seems okay now, but it will be. You cannot apologize for you being you,” I held her tightly so she knew I care and always will.

  “Thank you so much,” she muffled into my shoulder.

  “Hey, of course! How about I come over tonight so it won’t be so awkward?” I suggested and smiled at her. She nodded her head and started the car again.