Nobody Was Rescuing Anybody
Mom picked us up after prom.
My feet were aching, so Noah carried my heels.
He was uncomfortable in his suit, so I carried his jacket.
When we reached the car, he opened my door.
I climbed inside.
Then I leaned across the back seat and opened his.
He got in beside me.
From the driver’s seat, Mom watched us through the rearview mirror.
For years, she had looked at our friendship through the question so many people instinctively ask:
Who is taking care of whom?
That night, she finally understood that it was the wrong question.
Nobody was rescuing anybody.
Nobody was staying because of guilt.
Nobody was fulfilling an obligation made years earlier.
There was no hero and no person waiting to be saved.
There were simply two friends who had grown up together.
Sometimes I carried Noah.
Sometimes Noah carried me.
Most of the time, we simply walked beside each other.
