Justin

Banging the heel of my hand on the steering wheel, I ask myself for the hundredth time why I couldn’t have said no. I could have. I should have. I didn’t.

Jack Dunn took me home. He’d picked me up early in the morning so Dad would have my truck if he needed it. I should have said good night. Instead, when he said Janet, Ricky’s mom, made chili and would like to have me over for dinner, the word yes came out of my mouth. I ...