I don't know," i said. "maybe you're right, and all that stuff i think i missed is overrated. Why should i even bother? What's the point really?" he thought for a moment. "who says there has to be a point?" he asked. "or a reason. Maybe it's just something you have to do." he moved down to start bagging while i just stood there, letting this sink in. Just something you have to do. No excuse or rationale necessary. I kind of like that.
There's a kind of radar that you get, after years of being talked about and made fun of by other people. You can almost smell it when it's about to happen, can recognize instantly the sound of a hushed voice, lowered just enough to make whatever is said okay. I had only been in colby for a few weeks. But i had not forgotten.
Despite my dad's assurances i was strangely nervous my stomach tight ever since we'd hung up. Maybe deb had picked up on this and it was why she'd pretty much talked nonstop since i'd approached her and asked for a ride. I'd barely had time to explain the situation before she had launched into a dozen stories to illustrate the point that things happened but people were okay in the end.