Him

The cold nipped. I walked with determination, but the same apprehension persisted. I was different, older, yes, but fundamentally different. My fists clenched inside my jacket pockets, my pace quickened. I couldn’t see the door to Capt’s yet, hoping to at least gauge what kind of entrance I’d make.

At the door, I felt him close by, to my left. Still rail thin, a rogue curl swirled out of the tail end of a wave that escaped the liberal use of product. He was in need of a gel intervention, still. His clothes were dated, not fashionable, or particularly stylish, seeking neither to stand out nor blend in. His eyes darted around the room, scoping which shadow he’d spend the night cloaked by.

There was no need to wonder if he was high. It was just a matter of figuring out what his poison was that night. Coke, no doubt.

He checked in, exchanged pleasantries with Lisa, and stared Erin down, waiting for her to flinch before saying hello. I felt the need to offer her an excuse. She meant the world to him back then, but I decided to ignore it and him for that matter. I was there to party, touch base with old friends, mingle. I couldn’t let his presence bother me.

I ate, watched with glee as Rachel worked the room. At first I slipped back into old habits, preferring the corners to the electricity emanating from the middle.

I flirted with the hors d’oeuvres waitress, shook hands with Jim LeDuke, the principal’s son and the first person to offer me a seat in the cafeteria the first day of freshman year.

I couldn’t locate any of the guys I hung out with. Ritchie and Tommy wouldn’t be caught dead at a reunion. Tommy told me as much on the phone a month prior. I haven’t seen or spoken to Ritchie in over a decade. Across the room I saw a gathering of my old crew, Duane, Lisa, and Chris. I moved over to them. Duane and I embraced. Chris, already shitfaced, seemed taken aback when I stepped toward him, like he was trying to remember whether or not I still owed him money for a bag of pot we split. We all roared at the retelling of the senior prom, where we spent only twenty minutes before deciding to travel into Boston, to Northeastern, where my brother had an apartment. There we drank and smoked till we all passed out, sticking out like sore thumbs in our rented tuxes and Duane’s father’s emerald green Jag. He ruined the night by stealing weed and two hundred dollars from my brother’s roommate.

I relaxed. No one seemed to blame me for the fact that he loomed on the fringe. No one blamed me for the deplorable things I had to do to protect him all those years. Besides, I made enough of a splash to drown him out altogether with where I’d been since: rehab, robberies, prison, now a personal trainer and hopeful author, with the hottest girl in the room. Just then Boomer, the class genius, pulled me aside.

“Dude, is that your girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” I answered. A compliment I couldn’t really accept credit for was coming, but I did it anyway.

“Man, you need to get a ring on her finger, she’s awesome.”

I smiled and noticed that he was watching, jealous. I got angry. No one else noticed him.

I ignored him, trying hard at first, then effortlessly. Erin approached but Pat intercepted and pulled me aside, “You were the one that dated Ellen, weren’t you?”

I nodded yes.

“Man, I took her to the senior prom. She only went so she could be close to you. I was pissed.” he said, half joking, the other half still reeling.

It wasn’t me, but him, Pat was talking about. I shrugged it off. He moved through the crowd, on the way to the bathroom.

Erin and I finally had a chance to talk. She was always a little standoffish, but one-on-one she softened and let her guard down. We talked as if a lifetime of choices hadn’t separated us. I’m thankful Erin never truly fell for him. He’d hurt her. I’m indebted to her for making him feel better, if even for a short time.

By the end of the evening I lost track of him. Just before I left I spotted him, standing alone near the window looking out at Salem Harbor. I knew what he was feeling, left out, alone, afraid. I walked over, put my arm around him like I had wanted to do a billion times before and told him it was going to alright, that the pain wouldn’t last forever, his life is better than he could ever imagine.

I pulled him close, enveloping him before he vanished, gone but not forgotten.