Citation de gloubiboulga07186
"What a good friend he is to you," she said, pulling out a white cardboard container.
That was the moment when I was supposed to say, "yeah," and then change the subject, like I always did. But just then, my head gave a lurch of pain. Because it just felt so wrong. Every time I ducked the truth, it was like betraying Rikker all over again. Not to be dramatic, but I kept thinking about Peter's denial of Jesus. Except I was worse than Peter. Instead of denying Rikker three times, I denied him every fricking day.
I put my hands to my temples.
"Michael?" my mother asked. "What's wrong?"
I was too caught up in my own misery to answer her.
Worried, Mom abandoned the take-out order to come over to me. She sat beside me on the bed and cupped two hands under my chin. "What is it?"
I'd finally reached the point where I didn't want to lie anymore. But I wasn't capable of speaking the truth, either. So I was just stuck there, the words choking me.
"Sweetie, please. You're scaring me."
"He's not..." My voice cracked.
She held me a little tighter. "He's not what, Sweetie?"
I wasn't making any sense, and I knew it. It's just that I wasn't sure I could do any better. Not with the hot, crackling ball of fear lodged in my throat. "He's not..." I gasped the last part out, "just my friend."
That was the moment when I was supposed to say, "yeah," and then change the subject, like I always did. But just then, my head gave a lurch of pain. Because it just felt so wrong. Every time I ducked the truth, it was like betraying Rikker all over again. Not to be dramatic, but I kept thinking about Peter's denial of Jesus. Except I was worse than Peter. Instead of denying Rikker three times, I denied him every fricking day.
I put my hands to my temples.
"Michael?" my mother asked. "What's wrong?"
I was too caught up in my own misery to answer her.
Worried, Mom abandoned the take-out order to come over to me. She sat beside me on the bed and cupped two hands under my chin. "What is it?"
I'd finally reached the point where I didn't want to lie anymore. But I wasn't capable of speaking the truth, either. So I was just stuck there, the words choking me.
"Sweetie, please. You're scaring me."
"He's not..." My voice cracked.
She held me a little tighter. "He's not what, Sweetie?"
I wasn't making any sense, and I knew it. It's just that I wasn't sure I could do any better. Not with the hot, crackling ball of fear lodged in my throat. "He's not..." I gasped the last part out, "just my friend."
