“Holy shit,” she stutters as her fingers glide over the print. “Is this me?”
“Well, it’s you as your badass D&D character. I drew it when I was bored in the hospital, but I had to do the original on a notepad with a pen since Maggie wouldn’t let me use my tablet because it was bad for my head.”
She laughs at that, but her eyes stay down on the picture in her hands. That emotion building in my throat is getting worse. Fuck, I didn’t think this would be so hard. She’s just a kid, and to be totally honest, I only started hanging out with her because I felt bad for the way things went down with Charlie. I hated the idea of Sophie hating me.
That may have been why I started taking her to game night and ice cream, but that’s not why I kept doing it. I kept hanging out with Sophie because, while I was a pissy, bitter, self-absorbed man-child, who never had the guts to admit when I was wrong, Sophie gave me a chance to change her first impression of me. I actually started to like myself when I was around her.
While my dad was busy protecting me from the truth, Sophie didn’t sugarcoat shit. She wasn’t afraid to give it to me straight. If I was being a dick, she’d tell me. If I was wrong, she’d tell me. And since I wanted to be the kind of guy she felt safe with, I wasn’t afraid to change for the better.
“You’re my best friend, kid.”
She stares at me with a skeptical expression. “That’s really sad for you,” she replies, and I laugh.
“Probably, but that’s okay.”
We grow quiet for a moment before she ambushes me, wrapping her arms around my waist and hugging me hard, her head coming up to my chin. After a couple of seconds, she pulls away and wipes her eyes quickly to hide her tears.
“You’re such a jerk,” she mutters before slugging me in the arm, a little too hard, but I laugh anyway. “I can’t believe you’re moving to Arizona. It’s, like, a million degrees there and they have scorpions.”
“Does that mean you’re not going to visit me?” I ask, slinging an arm over her shoulder as I guide her back outside.
“Hell no. We have the ocean and better comic book stores. You should just come visit here.”
“Okay, I will. Promise.”
For a girl who doesn’t take promises lightly, I know how serious it is for me to say that. When we approach the group outside, I notice how tense my dad is, guarding his expression as he talks to Maggie.
This is it. There’s nothing left to do. The car is packed and the moving truck is gone. The only thing left to do is say our goodbyes.
And when my dad turns toward me with an emotionless expression, I think about the motel story again and how hard he worked to protect me from feeling anything at all. How it only taught me to bottle up my emotions for so long I became a ticking time bomb. So instead of bottling it up anymore, I break the cycle.
It takes him completely by surprise as I step up to him, throwing an arm out for a hug and pulling him tight against my chest. He squeezes me back, and I have to clench my jaw to keep from getting choked up.
Then the asshole has to quietly mumble, “You’re a good man, and I’m so proud of you,” and it all goes to hell.
There’s a tremble in my chest that I know he can feel because he squeezes tighter.
Then we finally break apart and, believe it or not, there are tears in his eyes. Mr. Tough Guy himself. I don’t have any room to talk because they clearly mirror mine, but who the fuck cares? I don’t. I’m not afraid of crying in front of my dad or our family. Not anymore.
“Thanks,” I mutter quietly before blinking away any moisture. Behind us, Maggie and the rest of them are saying their goodbyes too. When I come around to Charlie, I feel the need to pause.
“Bring Sophie out sometime, please,” I say, and she nods in agreement.