Busy

He thought that having something would be better than nothing. He'd grown up having nothing, having no one. He wanted something, someone that he could drop into conversation, to have something that made him interesting.

He wanted a friend. He had a few imaginary ones. There was Mr. Stuffems, his bear, the one that he'd hold when he slept at night, dreaming about what it would be like. In grade school he had classmates. One would suggest calling them friends. He wouldn't. He was never invited over after school, nor was anyone dying to share his lunch table with him. 

Well, there was that exchange student. Though he didn't have anywhere else to sit, and he got re-exchanged back to his home country. He spent the break with his headphones on. Most he had ever said was 'bless you,' in regards to a sneeze. He hadn't even bothered to say 'you're welcome' when thanked. It was possible that he didn't know the words.

It was also possible that he had no interest in befriending poor Lamar, because nobody ever did. 

Classmates evolved into co-workers. He was a victim of the retail grind, and learned to carry casual conversation in the lulls of weekday mornings. He wasn't proficient at it, and he still wouldn't dare call any of them friends, no matter how desperate he was to have one. One that cared about his general well being, instead of his opinion on the current weather.

For the record, he was feeling under it.

Desperate for attention, he made his way to the internet. There he found the blog of a boy who had just moved into the area. The boy was looking for somebody to show him all the things the city had to offer. All the things that Lamar felt too afraid to frequent himself. There was no way he was going to sit at the table by himself in a restaurant, even if they were offering burritos as big as his forearm.

Lamar had massive forearms.

And a massive soft spot for burritos.

He agreed to meet this guy at his home, asking his mother to call him an hour into his visit. If things are going well, he's going to use the code phrase 'yes, I'll be sure to defrost the porkchops.' He figured this way he'd still have an excuse to leave at some point, i.e. the porkchops, but still have time to bond.

If things were going south, he'd say, 'don't worry, I'll be right there,' and immediately excuse himself for some sort of family emergency.

To be honest, the emergency was also defrosting the porkchops, as she was at work and doing him a favor. Specifics wouldn't be given.

Things went alright, and he promised to defrost the porkchops. He stayed a while longer before making his exit.

"It was nice meeting you, Lee."

"We should hang out again soon." Lee clapped him on the shoulder. 

The thing about loneliness is that it makes you say yes to mediocre. He was so buzzed to have a friend, someone to talk to and about that he failed to realize that they had little more in common that doting over his dog, ironically named Cat, and that they both liked grilled cheese.

He came back the next week, a brick of cheddar with him. They made bad puns together. The sandwiches came out charred, and he ate them smiling, because someone cared enough to make him a sandwich at all, and sure as anything he could brag at work tomorrow about it. 

A few weeks and charred sandwiches passed.

"You know, I make a pretty mean grilled cheese myself," his coworker told him. 

"You got any evidence to back that up?" He was joking, in a happy mood from regaling his visit. They had watched a movie together on his laptop. Granted the sun was reflecting in through the window, and Cat had decided to sit on his foot until it went numb, but someone cared about him. He would take what he could get.

"What're you doing when you get off tonight? We can make sandwiches and chill." A customer came up and interrupted the two, but Lamar smiled through the rest of his shift, nearly cracking his face as he slid his card through the time clock.

Best. Grilled. Cheese. Ever.

The next week his coworker invited him to join a board game night. Some of his other coworkers were there, getting blitzed, throwing M&Ms into his mouth. He caught eighteen in a row. They all cheered at this. He was the king.

Lee texted. At first it was a simple hey. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket. He was busy, and he could text him back later.

He forgot to text him back later.

A day passed without contact. Lamar was caught up hanging out with the boys, finally getting that big burrito. Half of it had been tucked into a to go container. He was reheating it for breakfast when his phone buzzed again.

'Dude, let's get our cheese on. When are you free?'

He let the text sit. He had to check his plans first. The boys had been talking about potentially getting together for dinner that week, and if he could have burgers and fries over charred grilled cheese, he was going to take it.

One of the boys fell sick with the flu, and the plan got postponed. He sent off a text to Lee. 

'Is tonight good?'

Lee agreed. He always agreed, because he didn't have obligations, or friends. So they sat and ate and he watched him play video games, tucking his knees to his chest to hide his phone. He made an effort to split his attention. It wasn't like Lee particularly was paying attention to him. He was moreso talking at him, just happy that someone else was there. 

Lamar came back two weeks later. And then bi-weekly eventually became monthly, because supposedly work wasn't giving him much time to do much of anything. He failed to mention that the time left was spent doing better things, not wanting to hurt Lee's feelings. When it came down to it, they weren't compatible. They were merely victims of loneliness.

But Lamar wasn't lonely anymore.

On the day of one of their monthly meetings, the boys asked him if he wanted to join an impromptu overnight trip to the beach. They'd arrive late for a night at some luau that was being held and stay over to go swimming in the morning.

"I already made plans with Lee tonight."

"You're going to skip out on pretty bikini girls and fish galore to eat a charred grilled cheese and watch him play games again? You don't even play games." His friends were right.

He cancelled. Said that something came up, and he would text him when he got a chance.

He muted his notifications that weekend.

A week passed, and another message came in, asking when Lamar would be free to hang. He was missing him, and said it had been a minute since they'd seen each other. 

In actuality, it had been about 10,000 minutes. He wasn't counting. In fact, he had hardly noticed. He'd been busy, with work and friends and a girl that he had met at the luau. She was quite the distraction. They were going on their first date that night, and he put his phone on mute to ignore the series of texts that were coming in. 

Lee was lonely.

Lamar wasn't.

'Sorry man, been super busy. I'll let you know when I'm free.'

The thing about not being lonely is that he was never really free. Which meant no text. Which meant plenty of time to woo luau girl, and make her luau girlfriend.

Another month passed, and Lamar was switching over his phone when he noticed the last text from Lee. Guilt washed over him. This guy was there when he needed somebody, and now he couldn't return the favor.

'Hope you're doing well. Life isn't slowing down, but sending good vibes.' 

He snorted at his own text. Good vibes was a guilt ridden brush off. One that seemed to work, as Lee excitedly messaged back, saying that it was alright, and that he had just gotten into a game. He'd be busy trying to finish it anyway. 

Months went by. Neither one texted the other, and Lamar accepted this. He was in a place where he was finally happy.

'Bro, we should get dinner.'

It was out of the blue when he got it. It was his free night, and he wanted to relax. 

The sudden guilt wouldn't let him.

They got in his car, and as he turned the key, he asked Lee where to.

"I dunno man, you're buying."

He came home frustrated, and ten dollars poorer. Slumping into the couch, he got the text.

'We should do that again soon. Was great seeing you.'

He waited until morning to express how busy he was.

Months of sporadic hit ups for food and company passed. Sure, it wasn't charred grilled cheese, but it wasn't the boys, and it sure wasn't that little gem that had moved into his apartment. A few times he would go, but lately he was falling back on the busy excuse.

It was late the night that Lee texted.

'Wanna hang? I need a ride to the liquor store.'

'Busy making dinner.' Okay, so by making dinner he meant he was pouring milk over a bowl of cereal, but he didn't want to go out.

'You're always conveniently busy.'

"Give me that thing." His girlfriend snatched the phone from him. A part of him wanted to stop her. Another part wanted her to put the nail in the coffin because he knew he'd never muster the courage to.

She pressed the call button.

"You're always inconveniently not busy."

"What?"

"Take a hint. Just because you have all the free time in the world to dedicate to people doesn't mean that they want it dedicated to them." Lamar dropped the jug. He had spilled milk. She had spilled the truth.

She ended the call, and the phone rang again. He let it go to voicemail. The second call, the third. All to voicemail. He had more important things to deal with.

He had milk to clean up.