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Chapter Eleven: Apologies
Jonathon Turner's POV:
I watched Topanga, Cory, and Angela exit the room, and I knew I would never have guessed they would turn out like this. I glanced at Shawn, and knew that I had failed him. I wondered why he had chosen to stay in this house with us, when the air was so thick in tension, I felt I could cut it with a knife and spread it on some toast. Suddenly, Shawn gestured for me to follow him, and I stood up to oblige. I didn't know where he was taking me, but I followed anyway. I found myself outside, standing next to a grown version of the boy I had helped raise. He asked me if I wanted to go for a ride, and I nodded my approval, unsure of what I would say to him. Perhaps I was just being too judgmental, too hard on him on myself. Or perhaps not.
Shawn's POV:
I unlocked Cory's rental car, with the keys he had loaned me before taking off with the girls, and climbed into the driver's seat. I drove, in silence, with Jon on my side. I was completely unsure of what to say. Suddenly I saw the building where our apartment had been, and I pulled into the lot.
"Uh…Shawn? I don't live here anymore," he said, with confusion in his voice.
\ "I figured that. I just thought it would be a nice place to…talk," I said, hoping he didn't think I had lost my mind all together.
"Ok then. Where should we start?" he asked.
"I'll start, OK? I'll just tell you the whole story before you judge me anymore. After Cory left, I realized how alone I really was. After Jack joined the Navy, or more accurately after I got the call telling me he wouldn't be coming back, I felt all alone in the world. I mean, ya, I had Angela, but that was different. Angela didn't want to go to football games or do guy stuff. So, I started going to bars, and made a whole bunch of beer buddies. Basically, we'd go to work, then go to the bar and spend all of our earnings, and then go home. I lost my job, when they found out I had been stealing money to cover my drinking and the bills. Now Angela was working to support the two of us, and I spent the whole day drinking. And, I was a mean drunk. I…well…I hate to even admit this, but when I was at my very worst, I beat her. She was terrified of me, and the bills were piling up around us. Finally, the day we got an eviction notice from the apartment, she joined the Marines, just to get away from me. I guess in a way, the accident was my fault. After she left, I lived with my bar buddies, and we drank all the time, also pushed some drugs to support the habit. One day, a couple of months ago, we were running down to the grocery store to get some chips and stuff, and the guy who was driving was drunk. He lost control of the road, and we drove into a ditch. The day I got out of the hospital I checked myself into rehab. I haven't had a drink since, although I was awfully close on the way here. In fact, I think I'm going to stop living there, and join the outpatient program. I really think I can handle it now. Someday, I hope to put my degree to good use and become a psychologist at the rehab center. Of course, I'll need a couple more years of college first. But it'll be worth it," I said, surprised at my own honesty.
"I understand Shawn. It must have been hard to lose your dad, brother, and best friend in such a short period of time. I'm just glad you were wise enough to get help, and I think you would be an excellent psychologist. So you made a mistake. It happens to everyone, and I understand. I think Angela would too," he said.
"I don't think she'll even talk to me," I said.
"You may be surprised," he said, smiling at me.
I started the car, and we began the drive back to the Mathew's house. I felt as though the world's biggest rock had been lifted off my chest.