Page 51 of Possibly Texas

I fell backwards onto the bed and threw my arm over my eyes. My stomach churned and I felt hot as I laid there on the bed in the stuffy room.

Did I just throw rotten fruit at God?

Ophelia by The Lumineers assaulted my ears when I walked up to the barely cracked green doors on the big red barn the next morning. Auggie was blasting his stereo, much unlike the day before, when David Bowie had been playing softly. At first, I thought opening the door and presenting myself, with all of my guilt laid bare, would kill me. I mean, I knew I had hurt the guy’s feelings, and I should apologize, but I didn’t know if I could deal with the embarrassment that comes with admitting that you messed up so magnificently. Of course, it also crossed my mind that Auggie might scream at me and tell me to leave. Or worse, he’d act cold and distant, his voice hollow and his face blank like it had been the day before.

Honestly, I didn’t know what had been going through my mind when I had given the flower to him outside of Blooms. It was a pretty flower and Auggie had been nice to me. He called me his friend. He’d taken me to church—even though I hadn’t really enjoyed the experience. At least not while it was happening. Truth be told, after church, I realized that I had a lot to think about—philosophize over like I was Grandy sitting on cinderblocks. But getting to that point had been a bit traumatic, to say the least. However, Auggie was the reason that I realized there was so much about life, people, and, I guess, myself, that I’d never thought about before.

When I saw the daisy, and its shimmering iridescence in the sunlight, it made me think of him. So, I thought he should have it.

Was that it?

Or was I so overwhelmed at having a friend—finally—that I had to show him my appreciation for being my friend? Not that I’d never had, like, a friend, I guess. I’d met other kids while on the road with Mom. But they were friends for a few days while we were in the same town. Sometimes I’d find another kid to hang out with for longer if we hung around a place long enough, but it never lasted. And I always had to make the first move towards friendship. Though I’d had to introduce myself to Auggie first, he had jumped into the idea of hanging out with me with both feet, not once questioning anything.

Auggie was cool.

But when the other boys saw me giving him a flower…

A boy who wore clam diggers and skirts and pearl jewelry…

I just needed Auggie to understand what had happened. It had nothing to do with him because he was freaking cool. I still wanted to be his friend and everything. The last thing I wanted was for him to stop trying to hang out with me because he thought I was upset with him or something. Because I wasn’t. We were still good in my mind.

So, I took a deep breath as Ophelia blared on Auggie’s stereo, and I pushed the green barn door open, hoping that Auggie wasn’t too busy with his art to talk to me. With the door swung wide and the sunlight pouring into the barn, I easily found Auggie in the usually gloomy room. As soon as the sunlight cast a streak across his face, he turned to see who had entered the barn, a smile on his face. When his eyes landed on me, it disappeared.

That was kind of a punch to the gut.

“Hey,” I said.

I didn’t step into the barn. I didn’t know if my presence was allowed.

“Hey,” he said back in that hollow voice I had feared.

He gave me a sharp nod and his expression went blank.

I screwed up so bad. I thought to myself.

“Um,” I kicked at the ground, “can I come in, or…?”

Auggie stared at me for a moment before speaking.

“S’free country.”

That wasn’t exactly the invitation I had been hoping for, but it was better than nothing, so I stepped inside, leaving the door open behind me. Even though I didn’t want to see Auggie’s blank face, I still wanted to be able to see him while I apologized. So I could judge his reaction. Closing the door would have hindered that, even with the skylight.

“Uh,” I said, “yesterday, with the flower—”

“I get it.”

“Yeah.” I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “I mean, no. I wanted to say that I’m sorry. It probably seemed like—”

“I get it,” Auggie said again, his tone firm.

“Look,” I rolled my head back to look up at the ceiling, “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Auggie. It’s just that—”

“I. Get. It.”

Auggie’s sharp tone made me look back over at him. It finally dawned on me that he was wearing dingy old sweatpants, old sneakers, and a band t-shirt. No skirt, clam diggers, or necklaces present. That made something in my chest ache.

He didn’t look like himself.