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Bobby remembers the weight of Reggie’s hand in his.
He remembered, somewhere in the space between his body and where he was floating now, how it felt to be grounded.
It felt like an anchor. It felt like a tether, carefully keeping him stuck on earth.
It wasn’t the type of weight that sat on his chest after another bad week of bills and sour scowls and swallowing down the truth like cherry flavored cough syrup.
It wasn’t the type of weight like when his bones got so heavy he couldn’t move and his blankets felt like buildings, crushing him and keeping him trapped in his bed for days on end.
It wasn’t the type of weight that nestled into Bobby’s heart when his mom never came home and his dad sent a birthday card with a name that wasn’t Bobby’s on it.
The type of weight that Bobby felt on when Reggie grabbed him was a balancing weight. It was the weight of a thick blanket on a cold night. It was the weight of a kiss that still tingled against his skin. It was the weight of all the words they’d spoken and all the words they’d never needed to say to get their meaning across.
It was a nice kind of weight.
But Bobby didn’t have that right now. Maybe he’d never have that again. The sirens outside screamed louder, but Bobby’s head was still underwater, still far away and so disconnected from his body the shrill pitch didn’t affect him.
Floating away wasn’t so bad. It had always scared the boys, especially Luke. He explained it once, that he was worried Bobby would drift so far into his head he wouldn’t be able to find his way back.
Alex didn’t like it because he said it was an unhealthy escape, a coping mechanism Bobby needed to be careful with. After all, he didn’t want Bobby to miss too much time. Not with his lola and not with the boys.
Bobby had never thought there’d be a reason he’d miss time with the boys. He had forever, after all.
Reggie, though, had understood Bobby’s disappearing act. He said it was the same for him. It was like stepping just left of his body, just watching, and losing track of time. Reggie lost track of time so often that floating away hadn’t been all that weird to him.
Reggie understanding meant he was the first to figure it out. Yelling didn’t help and neither did the gentle pleads of Alex, too scared to touch Bobby, like he’d electrocute him back into his body. Reggie knew. Reggie had placed his hand in Bobby’s, held it in a grip that was just on the wrong side of painful, and spoke calmly.
Bobby remembered it. He remembered feeling like a balloon, being pulled down down down. It felt like being pulled back to earth.
Once he slotted in behind his eyes, blinking back into a body he’d left some time ago, Reggie smiled. The light must be on in Bobby’s eyes again, because Reggie smiled and he said hello.
Bobby remembered. Bobby remembered the weight of Reggie’s hand in his.
But the weight in his hand now felt different. There were sharp points on his skin, his palm tingling awake and his knuckles creaking under the force.
Slipping back into his skin, Bobby blinked hard, feeling wetness on his cheeks.
All at once, it was loud. Sirens, voices, someone speaking to him. It was hot, like LA always was, but it was hotter than normal. A thick blanket was on his shoulders, another kind of weight, but it didn’t feel happy.
Guiding his eyes to the person in front of him, his hand on fire from the grip, Bobby finally settled fully into himself as he looked at the girl from the bar, sat in front of him, her own makeup smudged.
“Hey…You back, now?”
A slight nod, barely there, a bobblehead reaction to the question, just a jiggle before Bobby tried to look around.
Fingers dragged his jaw back to position, the girls eyes locking his in place. “Don’t. Focus on me.”
His tongue still felt clumsy, too big in his mouth, not making the shapes the way he needed it to. “What?”
Sadness creeped into her gaze and Bobby sensed she had lost him before with the answer to that. “It’s going to be okay…I’m here. I won’t go anywhere.”
“But…” Bobby tried, swallowing against the dryness in his throat. It hurt, stinging like shards of glass. “The boys…”
“I’m so sorry, Bobby… I’m so sorry.” She whispered, fingers touching his face, running across his jawline in a light swipe. There was no weight to it at all.
The realization settled into his gut, an uncomfortable weight against the stomach lining as acid lapped at the sides. He knew. There was no denying it.
Squeezing his hand, Bobby glanced down, felt the weight. It wasn’t Reggie’s weight. But it grounded him nonetheless.
Bobby remembered the weight of a hand in his and he fell forward into the girl in front of him, sobbing as the weight of the world crushed him.