This is a continuation of an earlier story, "Best Friends, Chapter 3: The End."
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A few years passed before Brian and I saw each other again. At the time, we were both sixteen. My mother and I were walking in the mall. I recall many details that are irrelevant, such as what we were wearing, the time, the date, and why we were at the mall. I remember the feeling I had that something was about to happen.
He was seated at a table in the Orange Julius, drinking a soda. Seated by him was a boy I recognized named Chris, who ranked high on the list of boys I found attractive. He was our age, athletic, and handsome. He’d sat in front of me in my sophomore English class, before I had changed schools. I’d studied his excellent posterior the better part of a school year. I felt a suspicion that Brian shared my taste.
Chris and I could never be rivals, not over Brian or anyone else. We’d got on well. I’d made him laugh once by pointing out an amusing spectacle during class. The teacher, annoyed by my whispering, demanded I share my observation with everyone. She thought I was talking about her. I wasn’t. I liked her, despite her suspicion to the contrary. I directed her attention to an adjacent chair, which was unoccupied. Seeing nothing, she repeated her demand. I said, “On that chair are a pair of fornicating flies.” One boy asked what fornicating meant. Coloring, she said, “You’re lying!” I said, “No, I’m not. We’ve got Romeo and Juliet back here.” She said, “Flies don’t do that.” I said, “These do. Come back here and see for yourself.” She declined. I received a detention or a suspension. All that mattered to me was that Chris thought it was amusing.
When they saw me, they whispered together. Should Brian ignore me or say hello? I stopped, unsure of what to say or do. Brian’s eyes met mine. I waved hello, expecting to be ignored by both of them, but I underestimated Brian. He disregarded the whispered counsel of Chris, who tried to stop him, and walked toward my mother and me. He greeted my mom, who had always liked him. Towards my mom, he felt a certain regard. Towards me, he felt contempt. The feeling filled all the space around him. I couldn’t prevail against it. He said how glad he was to see my mother and me, but his words sounded false. He studied my face for a reaction, smiling, expecting me to be annoyed, but I wasn't.
At that moment, my thoughts drifted back four years, when I watched from a second floor window as Brian’s mother pulled into our driveway in her small economy car. This was just a month into our friendship, when all was fresh and new between us. Brian opened the car door and stepped out. He was handsome, a dashing hero, a worthy friend. He looked up and noted the admiration in my expression. He smiled, gratified. I waved, but he only nodded, too cool to wave. In the next moment, his expression changed to one of alarm. He’d almost forgotten his Dungeons & Dragons books and dice! Had seeing me distracted him? I laughed. He darted back into the car, picked them up, and shut the door. We were going to play all day long and have a wonderful time. I raced down the stairs to greet him.
As I looked at my ex-friend, that memory seemed strange, as though from another life not my own. The corpse of our friendship was in an advanced stage of decomposition. I was persona non grata. He had already told me just what he thought of me. The time for words was long past, which is why I was silent.
He offered his hand, and I shook it. His grip was soft, not his familiar firm handshake. We parted on as good terms as can be expected. Later when I was alone at home, I wanted to call him. I picked up the phone, only to listen to the dial tone before placing it back. I knew all too well what his response would be.
He sometimes saw me at school. If I said hello, he might turn for an instant, but upon realizing the source, would turn away, and thereafter ignore me. It was as though I no longer existed in his reality. He had sworn that we would be friends forever, but I discovered the worth of his words.
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