Friendship

by MidAirCollision

Rating: teen
Tags: Alternate Universe, Adventure, Human
Length: 1196

Friendship; so complex so but so simple and never something that I’ve understood.

I wouldn't normally go to visit my "friends" but I didn’t want to forget…I hope that they could help me. For maybe the first time in my life I needed them there for me. I hope that they will hold clues to what is happening. Friendship; so complex so but so simple and never something that I’ve understood.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-09-06 23:53:55 UTC

Complexities of the thing called Friendship

Chapter 1

Complexities of the thing called Friendship

Not for the last time would I find myself sitting alone at a table, four all-but-empty glasses accompanied by four mostly finished plates and three empty chairs. I was the last in the diner save for the waitress. She cleared the table of all but my drink. She would have been mad at me if this were not something she knew well enough was going to happen when I arrived earlier that evening. If only I could remember all the other times I’d been in almost the same situation. It had not been many; however these occurrences were far enough apart that I couldn’t place them all.

Deciding not to finish my drink, I got up and paid my bill. I insisted it be that way: one table, four checks. Perhaps not the best set up, but not the worst.

The waitress walked over to the register and rang up the bill. I handed her the money. We said nothing to each other. I don’t think either of us knew the others name; we’d both heard them but never bothered to acknowledge each other. I preferred it this way. I glanced at her name tag: Barbra. I don’t particularly like the name, but I’m not her father so it doesn’t matter. I gave her a five dollar tip; more then was needed. but she had put up with me this whole time. Perhaps this time for the last.

I stepped out into the brisk, cool winter air. I glanced at my watch: 12:30. They’d closed at 11. How rude of me. I thought to apologize, but decided against it. I thought back on the events that had taken place over the last few hours; my friends talking and laughing loudly together. I was there, but stayed out of it for the most part. I thought how lucky Jess must have felt; it wasn’t the best place for James to have proposed, but I think he wanted me there to see it. I don’t think I would have seen it any other way.

Anyway, he always was a bit odd. Perhaps this had been why we had become friends in the first place; neither one of us were popular, outcasts ban together, don’t they? All in all, I must say that it was a good day. I should count myself lucky to have seen my friends; I should count myself lucky to have friends. To have ever had friends; I almost never saw them so when I told them, of my coming; they jumped at the opportunity to see me. I suppose that’s what friends are supposed to do, aren’t they? The only reason I’d ever come up here before was for business, and they had insisted we make time. That had been the reason we’d ended up at this stupid dinner in the first place. I still remember the first time.

I had gotten done so late on the last day and still hadn’t seen them. I would have been fine with this, but they surprised me by showing up at the office. Of course I couldn’t turn them down then. We drove around so long that this was the only place left open. This is what they really wanted, so I had to abide. Besides, friends are supposed to spend time together, aren’t they? Perhaps the previous evening would be the last.

I surely never was the social type. In fact I always remember them making fun of me most of the time; even James, who he himself had been washed aside by the waves of society, could be cruel at times. But they had grown out of that. Is that not how friends work? Are friends not supposed to have a good laugh now and then? Even if it is at another friends expense? Perhaps they had felt sorry for those times and this was their making up for it. Is that not what friend’s do, fight to keep their friendships? I don’t think I would ever be able to fully grasp the complexity of friendship. Perhaps I wasn’t meant to. But even now, looking back on those sad times, they still seemed brighter days then these.

Most of the lights in the dinner went out behind me as my shadow pulled back its reach from the parking lot. Zipping my jacket the rest of the way up to shield myself further from the cold winter wind, I pulled out a cigarette from the box in my front left jacket pocket, lit it and then stared at it for a minute. The waitress, Barbra, walked past me, arms tight against her, hands gloved and shivering as she fought the grasp of the cold wind. “Night,” she said, waving back at me about half way across the parking lot, not turning round nor stopping her short walk to the salvation from the cold of a winters night that was her car.

“Yes it is,” I replied, not looking up, thinking she would hear me, hopping she wouldn’t. I started to think how rude what I had just said was, but couldn’t, I couldn’t concentrate, not on my words nor the cold wind stinging my face as it picked up speed, whistling and then dying back down again. I was far to engrossed with the cigarette slowly burning itself out in my hand.

Watching the remnant embers of the paper blow away, extinguishing themselves in the snow shoveled up in the dead bushes that lined the sides of the dinner’s path to the door. I heard Barbra’s car pulling out and driving past me to the entrance of the parking lot, then out on to the empty road. But I couldn’t stop staring at that cigarette. It might seem odd to be interested in such a trivial thing.

“What is this?” I asked aloud to myself, now wishing I had someone there to answer me; wishing I had some friend to help me; wishing for an explanation to the puzzle before me. Wanting…wishing…waiting. But not receiving. Not for the first time had this occurred, and unfortunately, I thought, not the last. Unsure of what to do, I dropped the all but dead cigarette to the ground, not knowing how it or the others in my pocket had reached their current destination. I pulled out the box and dropped it to the ground. “I don’t smoke.” I said, barely above a whisper.

My hands were trembling now, like they’d done so many times before, as I looked out over the parking lot for someone, anyone, but saw only my car in the far end of the lot. Were friends not supposed to be there to help you? If only I had told them. I didn’t want to before; it wasn’t there business. I hadn’t wanted to tell them because they would have wanted to know more, or would have wanted to have helped. But I didn’t want them to. Not then, at least, but now. If only I hadn’t been so foolish, they could have helped. That’s what friends do, right? Help…