Friend and Foe

I watch silently as she crosses the street. A corner of white paper sticks out of the back pocket of her jeans; the second letter that I've delivered to her. Her direct and mechanized gait reminds me of her stubborn refusal to believe me. If only she would accept my explanation. But she's too hurt. After months more of my own denial this damage will prove to be irreparable.

She grabs the handle of the door, yanks it open with surprising ease, and walks into the building without looking back. For weeks I had been lost in the dark as to what happened. Something frivolous, I had assumed. Something that time undoubtedly would heal. At long last the rumor reached me about what I had supposedly said. Shocked at how ridiculous it was, I had dismissed it as bizarre and irrelevant. As the weeks piled up, so did the questions. By the time the seriousness of the situation dawned on me it was already far too late. Stubbornly I refrained from delving into why I couldn't understand how anyone believed it.

Sitting on the steps, I can hardly believe it myself. Placing my palms on either side of myself, my hands begin to absorb the lingering heat of the summer still radiating off the concrete. Her words circulate over and over in my mind, but they're still difficult to grasp. The name of her source. At long last I understand why everyone has believed without any reservations. At one time we would have called each other best friend, but that time is long past. We both know it, but we've cloaked the widening chasm between us well enough that no one questions our broken friendship. Until now I've never doubted this decision to cling to the shell of a hollow friend. At some point in the future I had hoped that our friendship would somehow become genuine again, but now I know that it never will. This time he has struck me as no one else could have, and he knows it. His motives are unnaturally sinister. 

The pen with which I had written my second apology is still resting in my pocket. Twirling it around my thumb, I consider everything lost and each possible course of action. 

"Hey."

Looking up, I see him standing behind me. The friend who has started so many rumors about me but whom I have continually forgiven until today. "Yeah?"

He smiles at me skeptically, "You just finishing lunch?"

Standing up, hands void of any evidence of food, I look him in the eye. His eyes long to search my face for the source of my uncharacteristically delayed response, but I hold his gaze. The sunlight reflects off his scalp through spiked hair. In the bright light of midday his ears always take on a transparently reddish hue. Those ears were once entrusted with my every thought, but can never again be trusted. "Oh, yeah."

Taking a step toward me, he looks up and down the empty street. "You just ate out here by yourself?"

My stomach lurches emptily as I sit back down on the warm steps. Nodding my head, I say, "Yeah. Sit down. It's a nice day."

Walking down the steps, he turns to look at me. "Nah, I have to go." After walking a few more feet, he glances back innocently and asks, "I'll see you later, yeah?"

I force a smirk and say, "You bet. Buddy."