Ex Friends Till the End
Meeting
Pete and Ryan weren’t neighbors or enemies. They weren’t friends; they didn’t even know each other. They didn’t go to school together—hell, they didn’t even live in the same town or state for that matter. But despite all of these facts, somehow they found each other. Certain circumstances had led to them meeting each other.
The first time they met was very brief, but was something each had thought of for about a week before forgetting all about the other. Ryan had gone to Chicago one summer with his parents to visit family. Pete lived in Chicago. Ryan had been on his way back from the bathroom and Pete had been walking towards him. They had gone through the awkward ‘Which way are you going?’ fight, continuously getting in each others way. Afterward, when he had returned to his family’s table, Ryan couldn’t help but keep thinking about Pete—that dark hair and the tanned skin. He had smiled and Ryan had admired the perfection of it. How could anyone have such beautiful teeth? Ryan wanted to know more about him, but he didn’t have a chance of course.
They didn’t meet again for a few years. Somehow, they had managed to go to the same college. But it had been too long, and not even Pete’s smile could muster up any spark of recognition.
“Hey,” the unfamiliar Pete said to Ryan, standing in a dorm room surrounded by a bunch of boxes. “You must be Ryan. I’m Pete.”
Ryan entered the room, a box in his arms and his parents behind him.
“Yeah,” Ryan said, smiling shyly at Pete. He looked around the room before awkwardly saying, “So, this is our room.”
“Yeah,” Pete said. He laughed lightly. “I’m sorry all of my shit is all over the place. You’d think I’d be more organized seeing as I’ve already been here for a little while.”
“It’s fine,” Ryan said. He looked at one of the two beds that didn’t have anything piled on top. “Is that one mine?”
“Yeah,” Pete said. “Unless you have a preference of course. I just kind of threw my stuff on the first bed I saw.”
Ryan nodded his head before walking over to the bed and setting down his box. Pete seemed nice enough at the moment, but he couldn’t help but have a fear that he would turn around and be some kind of crazy psycho. Nothing personal, of course.
The first time they met was very brief, but was something each had thought of for about a week before forgetting all about the other. Ryan had gone to Chicago one summer with his parents to visit family. Pete lived in Chicago. Ryan had been on his way back from the bathroom and Pete had been walking towards him. They had gone through the awkward ‘Which way are you going?’ fight, continuously getting in each others way. Afterward, when he had returned to his family’s table, Ryan couldn’t help but keep thinking about Pete—that dark hair and the tanned skin. He had smiled and Ryan had admired the perfection of it. How could anyone have such beautiful teeth? Ryan wanted to know more about him, but he didn’t have a chance of course.
They didn’t meet again for a few years. Somehow, they had managed to go to the same college. But it had been too long, and not even Pete’s smile could muster up any spark of recognition.
“Hey,” the unfamiliar Pete said to Ryan, standing in a dorm room surrounded by a bunch of boxes. “You must be Ryan. I’m Pete.”
Ryan entered the room, a box in his arms and his parents behind him.
“Yeah,” Ryan said, smiling shyly at Pete. He looked around the room before awkwardly saying, “So, this is our room.”
“Yeah,” Pete said. He laughed lightly. “I’m sorry all of my shit is all over the place. You’d think I’d be more organized seeing as I’ve already been here for a little while.”
“It’s fine,” Ryan said. He looked at one of the two beds that didn’t have anything piled on top. “Is that one mine?”
“Yeah,” Pete said. “Unless you have a preference of course. I just kind of threw my stuff on the first bed I saw.”
Ryan nodded his head before walking over to the bed and setting down his box. Pete seemed nice enough at the moment, but he couldn’t help but have a fear that he would turn around and be some kind of crazy psycho. Nothing personal, of course.
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