Tight Knit by Allie Brennan Page B

happening, then I have no idea why he would want to bring me along. 
    He watches me carefully, his eyes burning with intensity but the rest of him is casual. 
    “It’s my birthday in a couple months,” he says. 
    “Oh?” I shift in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “Happy birthday.” 
    He chuckles and my face heats up. What was I supposed to say?
    “Which means I’ll be 18. I’m done with probation.” He’s still watching me. Searching for something. His arms cross in front of his chest, pulling his T-shirt tighter over his shoulders. 
    I wonder what he’s protecting himself from. Everyone knows he’s been to Juvie. 
    “Congratulations.” I smile at him and his eyebrows furrow which makes the smile fall from my face.
    “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” I ask. 
    He nods. 
    What is this guy about?  
    “Why are you looking at me like that?” I cross my arms this time. 
    His face quickly softens and that real authentic Lachlan, the one I’m starting to like shows up. 
    He clears his throat. 
    “I, uh, I still have to go to support meetings though. I thought maybe you’d come with me. The woman who runs it is always on me that I don’t have anyone my own age-” 
    It's really strange seeing him like this. Suddenly he’s not looking at me. Scratching his elbow nervously. Cracking his knuckles. 
    “Your own age?” 
    “Yeah, anyone who’s a friend that isn’t part of, uh, my past life.”
    My heart sinks when he says friend. Why am I upset about that?
    “Of course I’ll come with you.” I have about a million questions about this ‘support meeting’ but I restrain myself. 
    I can’t just pounce on him for information. He isn’t Janna, I think and there is a shot of pain that sparks in my chest at the thought of her. 
    “I know I didn’t really give you a choice or anything. But you said that day after the diner that you couldn’t help me if I didn’t tell you.” 
    He scratches the back of his neck. My limbs go all soft and fluttery and my stomach feels like it’s floating. I don’t know why I feel like this is such a huge deal, but I think for him it is. That crack in his facade I saw after the motorbike ride has opened up again. His face is tight and his eyes are wide. I feel like he’s trying to see inside me. 
    “Tell me what?,” I speak softly, trying to encourage him, not startle him out of finishing this confession.
    “Well, I have a hard time talking about shit, you know?”
    Obviously.
    “So I thought I’d bring you here. You’ll figure it out faster than I can tell you. I’m pretty fucked up, Hat Girl. I just want you to know that.” 
    I sit back, unaware that I had been leaning forward more and more with each of his words.
    “Do you really have to swear so much?” I don’t mean for these words to be my first, but this is what comes out.
    He laughs again, relaxing back into his seemingly confident self. He cuts the engine to the car and then puts his hand on my shoulder. It sends a tingle down my arm where his thumb touches the skin of my collar bone. 
    “If my swearing is what concerns you the most about everything I’ve just said then I think you’ll be just fine in there.” He nods toward the church and squeezes my shoulder. 
    ~
    Lachlan’s standing in front of the large wooden doors, his hand on the knob, but he won’t open it. I’m just about to ask what’s wrong when he turns to me with a expression of apprehension. 
    “I’ve never wanted to bring anyone here before. But I just feel like you’ll get it.” 
    His face scrunches up as if he’s thinking about what he just said and isn't happy about it. He swings open the door and gestures for me to go in first. I watch him as I walk past but whatever was just there, whatever emotion he was trying to suppress is gone. 
    He places his hand on the small of my back and lightly guides me through the warm church foyer to another set of doors. His touch makes me forget what he was