His Fingertips Have Memories
Bob The Asshole Strikes Again.
Ask either one of them and they’re not going to lie; it was the most awkward lunch they have ever sat through. Every single aspect of it was awkward. For starters, the topic of conversation; there was none. Actually that’s not true, but there was nothing either of them could talk about in a diner, nothing either of them could casually ask, as if they were talking about work. About a question a second popped into Bob’s head. Did you think of me? Were you happy in LA? Were you lonely? Did you make friends? Did you miss me? Did you ever want to talk to me? Did you have a boyfriend? There were so many more questions; questions about the past and the present. How do you feel about me now? Do you still love me? Do you want to just start over? Even if they both wanted to (Bob certainly did), it would have been impossible. So many things went unsaid for so long. So many feelings were bottled up for years. Two hearts were broken. Could people ever recuperate when someone just up and left when they needed each other the most? Bob sighed. Amy was picking at her food.
“So, you look tan,” said Bob lamely.
“It’s really sunny in LA.”
Awkward. Bob didn’t know how to handle himself. Should his arm be on the table or in his lap? Should he hold his fork this way or that? Should he sit up or a slouch a bit? He wondered how his hair looked.
“So,” said Amy, finally breaking the awkward silence. “How is everyone?”
Wow, of course she had to bring this up. That was just fucking great. Any other subject would have been better. But no, the one subject that was going to make him look like more of an asshole was at hand, perfect.
“Oh, everyone. They’re great. Really. They say ‘Hi’ actually,” he said with small conviction. Amy sat up a bit, a small smile on her face.
“They do?” Approval of the guys was one of the most important things to Amy when they were dating; apparently it was still the same way. Amy wanted the guys to like her because they were Bob’s best friends, his closest friends.
“They don’t,” said Bob, staring into his food.
“They don’t?”
“No. They don’t. I didn’t exactly tell them you called or that you were even back in town…They think I’m at the dentist.” Silence. Awkward. Bob the asshole strikes again. Amy chewed on the inside of her cheek. She asked why he didn’t tell them. Well, the real reason? He was positive that the only person who would encourage him to see Amy was Frank. Frank loved Amy (in a strictly platonic way). He knew that Gerard would tell him not to see her, that she was just going to hurt him all over again. He was pretty sure he’d cave and listen to Gerard (Mikey and Ray also telling him to have nothing to do with her). When Amy left, Gerard knew how it killed Bob everyday, how much he was hurting. Bob shrugged. The waitress walked over.
“Is there anything else I can get you two? Coffee? Dessert?”
“No,” they said in unison. Amy blushed, and Bob asked for the check. They had the world’s most awkward parting, not hugging when saying goodbye. Bob gave a weird little wave, Amy a small smile. Bob got into his car and drove around for a while. He wanted to cry, hysterically. All he wanted to do was hug Amy, hold her in his arms and never let her go. His eyes started tearing, he bit his bottom lip to prevent tears slipping out of his eyes and rolling down his cheek.
“So, you look tan,” said Bob lamely.
“It’s really sunny in LA.”
Awkward. Bob didn’t know how to handle himself. Should his arm be on the table or in his lap? Should he hold his fork this way or that? Should he sit up or a slouch a bit? He wondered how his hair looked.
“So,” said Amy, finally breaking the awkward silence. “How is everyone?”
Wow, of course she had to bring this up. That was just fucking great. Any other subject would have been better. But no, the one subject that was going to make him look like more of an asshole was at hand, perfect.
“Oh, everyone. They’re great. Really. They say ‘Hi’ actually,” he said with small conviction. Amy sat up a bit, a small smile on her face.
“They do?” Approval of the guys was one of the most important things to Amy when they were dating; apparently it was still the same way. Amy wanted the guys to like her because they were Bob’s best friends, his closest friends.
“They don’t,” said Bob, staring into his food.
“They don’t?”
“No. They don’t. I didn’t exactly tell them you called or that you were even back in town…They think I’m at the dentist.” Silence. Awkward. Bob the asshole strikes again. Amy chewed on the inside of her cheek. She asked why he didn’t tell them. Well, the real reason? He was positive that the only person who would encourage him to see Amy was Frank. Frank loved Amy (in a strictly platonic way). He knew that Gerard would tell him not to see her, that she was just going to hurt him all over again. He was pretty sure he’d cave and listen to Gerard (Mikey and Ray also telling him to have nothing to do with her). When Amy left, Gerard knew how it killed Bob everyday, how much he was hurting. Bob shrugged. The waitress walked over.
“Is there anything else I can get you two? Coffee? Dessert?”
“No,” they said in unison. Amy blushed, and Bob asked for the check. They had the world’s most awkward parting, not hugging when saying goodbye. Bob gave a weird little wave, Amy a small smile. Bob got into his car and drove around for a while. He wanted to cry, hysterically. All he wanted to do was hug Amy, hold her in his arms and never let her go. His eyes started tearing, he bit his bottom lip to prevent tears slipping out of his eyes and rolling down his cheek.