"You know" Owen said, as his fingers found mine, "it sure seems like you have all answers."
"Nah," I told him. "I'm just doing the best I can, under the circumstances."
"How's that going?" He asked.
There was no short answer to this; like so much else, it was a long story. But what really makes any story real is knowing someone will hear it. And understand.
"Well you know," I said to Owen. "It's day by day."
He smiled at me, and I smiled back, then stepped closer, turning my face up to meet his. As he leaned down to kiss me, I closed my eyes, savoring his closeness. Not caring that my family was probably watching, I wrapped my arms around his neck, making the kiss longer.
Eventually, Owen pulled away, brushing some hair away from my face.
"I don't suppose you can come to lunch with us?"
He shook his head, "no, I told my mom I'd head home right after the trial. Sorry."
"Alright. Does the official punishment include the banishment of your phone?"
"So far it does not. We're 'discussing it more when you get home mister'." He rolled his eyes, adopting an odd falsetto to imitate his mom on the last sentence.
This made me smile. I cupped his cheek in my palm for a moment before stepping away from him slightly. "Well, thank you for coming, even if it wasn't for the whole trial. Text me later, if you can. Let me know what happens?"
He nodded, "absolutely. I'll see you at school if nothing else." his keys jangled as he took them out of his pocket, lingering. "Bye, Annabel."
"See ya later." I didn't make a move, just watched him. He didn't move either. We smiled at each other again before he leaned down for another quick kiss.
As I walked back to my family, I couldn't help but be somewhat happy, despite the difficulties of the day.
"Annabel?" My mother asked as soon as I was within earshot, "who was that?"
I couldn't help the small blush that crept up my cheeks. "His name is Owen. Owen Armstrong."
"Isn't he that pizza guy, with the good music?" Whitney asked.
I nodded. "We're ...friends," I repeated the words I'd told her about him all those months ago, unsure if we were more than that now. I sure hoped so.
"Friends?" My mother mused, darting a quick look at Owen's retreating figure. Uncharacteristically, she let it go, moving on to a different question as my dad fidgeted uncomfortably. "What was he doing here?"
We started toward the car, slowly, letting the last of the lunch hour rush stream around us "He came to see if I was okay. I told him what happened," I answered quietly.
"Oh well he didn't need to leave, honey. He could've come to lunch with us."
Should I tell them what he did? "He couldn't. He's... grounded." Might as well. She'll just wonder why he can't come over to meet them if I don't.
"Then why'd he come at all today? I mean how?" Kirsten questioned, wrapping her fingers around mine. "Did he break out of house jail just to see you? How romantic." Her slip back to overly verbose Kirsten almost made me laugh.
"No, no jailbreak. More of a bereavement leave. His mom let him come because he promised to be here for me yesterday before he got grounded, but it took a little negotiating. It's probably best he wasn't at the trial anyway. He should probably not be around Will Cash." I found myself thinking again that maybe not lying was contagious since I'd definitely not meant to say so much.
"Why should he do that?" My father chimed in, looking more comfortable now that all the boyfriend talk was done.
I smiled, thinking of them whispering about what happened to him at the trial, "he punched Will Cash in the face last night." I enjoyed the look of shock on my mother's face as Kirsten and Whitney each gave a short laugh. I could have sworn my dad smiled.
It took a few minutes before my mom finally said something. We'd reached our car by then. "Well...we'd like to meet him, whenever he...whenever he can. Okay, Annabel?"
I nodded, opening the back door and settling in between my sisters. "I like him already." Kirsten declared. Whitney nodded.
My father changed the subject, asking where we should eat. I hoped that would be the end of the Owen talk.
And it was for a while. Once we got to the restaurant, talk turned to Kirsten and her plans for her next film. It really was wonderful to be together again. I looked at them all and felt profoundly happy. I'd thought telling people would make them look at me differently; with disgust or pity, but I should have known better with my family. I only saw what I always saw when they looked at me; happiness, annoyance, amusement. Basically, just love. Nothing could change that.
Eventually my mother couldn't keep her questions at bay. "Annabel if you told this Owen what happened to you, to must be pretty close to him."
"Um yes, we are pretty close."
"And he's not your boyfriend?"
I almost rolled my eyes, "mom, I don't know. We haven't talked about it okay?"
"I'm just trying to figure out why you'd tell him about your... incident before you'd tell us."
Ah I get, she's hurt I didn't talk to her first. "Owen..." I paused, searching for a quick way to explain all that he'd done for me. "Owen is the reason I had the courage to tell the story at all. If I hadn't told him, we wouldn't be friends anymore because of something stupid I did a few weeks ago." There, that summed it up nicely.
Her hands fluttered to her chest and she looked pacified. "Now I'd really like to meet this boy, if he's special enough to do all that."
"Mooooom" I groaned.
"Alright, alright. No more Owen talk. Just promise, he'll-"
"I promise to invite him over. As soon as I can."
Lunch finished, we shuffled back in to the car. True to her word, there was no more Owen talk that day. A buzz brought my attention to my phone.
'The boot has dropped. 3 weeks of nothing but school and work, 6 weeks no show.'
'but I do get to keep my phone.'
Before I could a reply, he'd sent two more texts.
'I mean I totally deserve it. I feel awful. My mom was totally justified...'
'But no SHOW for 6 WEEKS. Annabel I might die'
I smiled, typing hastily. 'Owen I'm sorry. That sucks but I hardly think you'll die'
Buzz. Buzz.
'i will. I can feel it '
'what will my listeners do without me?'
So dramatic, I thought, smirking. But then, that was Owen.
