They were breathing hard, not looking at each other, but they were connected, the three of them. They understood something I didn't. I was just standing there on the periphery, bearing witness to it all. It was like the time I went to church with Taylor, and everyone else knew all the words to the songs, but I didn't. They lifted their arms in the air and swayed and knew every word by heart, and I felt like an intruder.
"You know, don't you?" my mother said, her hands crumpling away from them.
Richard sucked in his breath, and I knew he was holding it in, trying not to cry. His face was already starting to bruise. Johnny, though, his face was indifferent, detached. Like he wasn't there.
Until his face sort of opened up, and suddenly he looked about eight years old. I looked behind me, a
