Community Service

Community Service | Part Six

Community Service | Part Six

            After Ross finds his grey hoodie tucked under the couch in the living room, there is silence as we walk out of my house and I lock the front door to prevent any drunkards from knocking on my door.

            I think it’s because of the shouting match that Ross is so quiet, almost afraid of me, which would be comical if it was in a different sort of situation, as I start my car again and pull out of the street. We don’t say anything, the only sound coming from the stereo, but my mind is loud with too many tangled thoughts.

            There was something about Anthony that I liked when I first met him three years ago, introduced by my mother who, at the time, had looked so happy with him. He was the tall and handsome kind of guy that my mother liked, and he had been nice, both characteristically and monetarily.

            When he was around the house, there was always laughter, always drinking, always expensive looking gifts, always some sort of entertainment that made our house much more bearable.  I think it was because he was decent that I was accepting, all the jewelry and nice words tricking me into thinking that he was somebody that was deserving of my mother.

            Well that was until I found out he was married.

            She worked at the local elementary school where I volunteered, and I remember seeing her name plate in the secretary office and horror whelming up inside me and watching as she smiled and asked me to sign in, and then there was a sensation of immense guilt and anger, coupled with fear.

            The biggest mistake of my life wasn’t allowing Ross to be my chemistry partner, but rather telling my mother than her boyfriend was already a husband.

            “-and so I just wanted to apologize.”

            “What?”

            Ross gives me a look as I come back into the present and veer the car around a curb.

            “You didn’t listen to me at all, did you?”

            ‘Wait, wait,” I shake my head and blink a couple times, looking down at the GPS for the next direction. “What about apologizing? Repeat everything you’ve said since we’ve gotten into the car.”

            “Uh, okay.” Ross looks confused. “I said that you were a bad driver.”

            “Thank you.” I reply.

            “That wasn’t supposed to be a compliment at all.” Ross says dryly.

           I shrug. “I aspire to be the worst driver you’ll ever meet.”

            Ross chuckles nervously and shakes his head. “Anyways, then I apologized.”

            “You apologized? For what? There’s a long list of what you could have apologized for.” I reply tartly, turning onto his street and slowing down.

            Ross takes a deep breath as we approach a stuccoed, red house at the end of the street, his house to be specific, and I slow down so I can hear this epic apology.

            “I’m sorry for setting the chemistry lab on fire. I’m sorry for dragging you in this. I’m sorry that you have to do community service with me. I’m sorry that I was drunk on the sidewalk and I’m sorry I ate all your food. Actually, I’m not sorry for eating your food because it was really, really good. I’m sorry for drawing a mustache on your face, and I’m sorry there’s a penis on your carpet-“