Hit By A Truck

Pierre

Someone entirely normal.

Someone I don't know.

Someone who – as far as I know – didn't do anything bad in his life.

Someone who has a family.

Someone who has a best friend.

Someone who probably has a lover.

Wasn't this boy - who sat up, finally awake, in front of me - all those things? I sighed, brushing my hand through my hair. When father stood up, so did I. Father solemnly apologized.

"I apologize for my behavior regarding your injury." The two of us stood there awkwardly for a while before we got an answer.

The boy on the bed held up a hand. "It's okay. It's not like it was your fault, anyways. If anyone, it was mine. I went out on the road with only a few seconds left." The boy looked at me briefly before continuing. "Anyway, it was my fault, not any of yours, so you don't need to apologize, and you don't need to waste your time here."

"My schedule is completely free." I piped up.

The boy arched an eyebrow. "Don't you have other things you want to do?"

I shook my head. There wasn't really much in my day, and I was done with my manuscript for this month. "As I said, it's all free."

The boy shrugged. "Well, doesn't your father have work? Oh, nevermind, I suppose it doesn't matter. You can do what you want. Can I..." He looked at the other boy by his bedside – Ron, he'd said his name was when introducing himself. "...have some alone time with my friend?"

Father and I had sat back down, but now we jumped up. Well, father jumped up, and I stood up normally. "Of course!" Father gasped.

When we'd left the room, father looked at me seriously. "Listen to me, We cannot let this boy out of our sights without a proper apology. Tomorrow, you will come here, and you will invite him over for dinner."

I shrugged. "Sure." I knew the boy deserved us to be sorry, and deeply, sincerely sorry, but he didn't deserve the kind of respect my father was giving him. Like as if he were a saint or something. Well, who am I to disagree with what my father wants?

Then something came into my head. "Wait, I don't think he can even get out of bed."

My father shrugged. "Do what you can."