The Truth by Jeffry W. Johnston Page B

offers.
    â€œReally?”
    â€œBob Reidy says if it had been him in that situation, he wouldn’t have waited for the kid to pull a gun.”
    â€œReidy should shut the hell up.”
    â€œChris, you didn’t tell me he was only thirteen.”
    I don’t say anything.
    â€œIt doesn’t matter, you know,” he says. “He still tried to…you know.”
    Is he going to push this?
    â€œHow’s Devon?” he asks.
    The question startles me. “What do you mean?”
    â€œThe game. Running into the catcher. It was…I don’t know…weird.”
    â€œHe’s fine.”
    â€œLike Matt said, he must think you’re a hero. The way you stood up for you and him.”
    Before I can respond, Matt, Eric, and Ben join us. Not just them—they’ve brought a crowd. Five or six others surround us while Matt sits across from me. Rita Moyer is part of the group. There was a time when seeing her here, showing some interest in what I have to say, would have made me happy. But that was before a month ago, when I finally got up the nerve to ask her out to the spring dance and she said she couldn’t go because she had something else that night. Then she ended up going to the dance with Matt. I stayed home with Devon that night so Mom could work a night shift.
    â€œAll right, we’re here,” Matt says.
    I look at him. “Here for what?”
    â€œFor what?” Matt says, smiling at the rest of the group he’s assembled. “Like you don’t know you’re the big story around here.” He leans across the table. “You agreed, remember? To tell us what happened?”
    I notice other kids in the cafeteria glancing our way. A few teachers too.
    â€œI didn’t know you had it in you,” Matt continues. “Like something out of the movies. Bruce Willis kind of shit. You faced the ultimate and you didn’t choke. You came through. No one’s gonna mess with you now.” He grins. “So tell us about it,” he says, pulling back and waving his hand to indicate the crowd as if he’s a talk show host and I’m the main guest.
    â€œWhat…do you want to know?” I say finally.
    â€œWhat was it like? It must have been, I don’t know, like being in a video game or something.”
    I look at him.
    â€œYou know. Call of Duty ? Medal of Honor ? Those games are like the real thing.”
    â€œI…I don’t play those games,” I say in a low voice.
    â€œOh.” Matt looks a little annoyed now. He brought these people over to give them a show and I’m not delivering. “Come on, tell us. Was it cool or what?”
    I glance up at the group of kids gathered behind him. Most of them would probably pass me by without saying a word to me, but now they’re all watching me expectantly, interested in what I have to say. “Yeah,” I tell them. “It was cool.”
    Matt gets a big grin on his face, looking again at the group he’s gathered, then back at me. “What was it like to watch him go down?” he asks. “God, it must’ve felt…I don’t know… Did he draw first and you were faster? Was he dead right away? Or did he, you know…take a while?”
    The guy is looking at me, shaking, his eyes pleading, like he wants to tell me something but can’t.
    â€œI was faster,” I say quietly. “And…yes, it took a while.”
    â€œWas there a lot of blood?”
    The bullet got him in the neck. The blood keeps coming.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œJeez. And you…watched him?”
    â€œI called 911.”
    I notice Terry staring at me. Eyes wide. I haven’t even told him this much.
    â€œI gotta hand it to you. You’ve got balls.”
    â€œWell, you gotta do what you gotta do.”
    â€œThat’s right,” Matt says. “People gotta learn, they mess with you, there are consequences. Listen, I might be