At school, where he had three years to survive, Barry couldn’t afford to be slapped down or embarrassed so avoided talking to people who didn’t open a conversation with him.
Here, if the girl told him to drop dead, it wouldn’t matter, because he would never see her again, save at a function like this.
He recalled the sentiment of his mother at that Howard Johnson’s they’d stopped at when the trip began.
The point, ‘never see them again’ was pasted in his brain. It was a strange thought, but one he held like a jewel.
There were places one entered that they might never be again, seeing people they should never again encountered. What they say or heard or thought, didn’t matter.
When his mother said it, it kicked open a door in his mind, was written on his soul.
That was why he came near to the red headed girl and said; “Hi…”
She replied, “Low…”