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Allison sat up. “Okay. Objectively speaking, here’s what you’ve got. They approached you in the parking lot, right?”
“Right.”
“And they said all this stuff to you before Clint distracted them, right?”
“Uh huh.”
“Then, Clint drove off and they followed him. Pursued him, right?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“And even though Clint tried shaking them, they kept following him. Until they ran him off the road.”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah.”
“In my eyes? The only thing Clint has accountability for is getting their focus off you. That was his fault, and it had good intentions. Good motives. Everything else was spurred on by those boys. From pulling up to you guys in the first place to chasing him down, no matter what. To me? The charge should be attempted murder.”
And after a brief pause, I nodded.
“You make a very good point about that.”
Allison scoffed. “There’s no point about it. Drunk or not, those boys knew what they were doing. If they had enough sense to keep in control of that car long enough to be able to ram Clint over the edge of that bridge, then they had enough sense to choose not to.”
I grinned. “You sure you don’t want to be a lawyer or something?”
She giggled. “Nah. I’m just really good at arguing. Dad hates it.”
“Let me guess. You get it from your mother.”
“We’ve chased Dad out of the house a few times. No joke.”
The two of us fell apart in laughter, and it felt good to be laughing again. Especially with the whirlwind this weekend had been. Between listening to D.J. and my mother literally fight all Friday night to the police trip with Clint Saturday morning, I was exhausted. Deep in my bones. I was frustrated, I felt numb to the world, and all I wanted to do was crawl underneath a rock and stay there.
Yet, somehow, Allison had me laughing.
“You two ready for dessert?”
Her mother’s voice filtered up the stairs and we scrambled off the bed. We raced back down the stairs, flopping onto the couch as her mother divvied out massive bowls of cobbler and ice
cream. We all sat together, with Allison and me between her parents while we watched a movie and ate our fill. I laughed with them. I sniffled with them. We watched the sweetest little comedy that had us all roaring with laughter and holding back tears.
But all too soon, it was time to go.
“Here, there’s plenty of leftovers. Take some to your mother.”
“And some cobbler, too. We’ll never eat all this I made.”
“Want some lemonade?”
“I could pack some of this ice cream on ice for the trip back.”
I snickered, holding the bags full of tupperware. “I promise, you guys, this is more than enough. Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
After handing me one last bag of food, Allison got the keys to the car from her father. She drove me home, and I sat there for a second gathering the mental energy to walk into the house. I didn’t see D.J.’s car, which was a massive relief. But something in the pit of my gut told me I was still walking into something bad.
Allison put her hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m good. See you tomorrow morning?”
