Something like that

It had been twenty-four years since she’d last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same, same music playing, same drinks, same everything. There were even the same people, although she might not recognise them. They hadn’t aged so well.

Dawn, on the other hand, had aged gracefully. Her slim form looked healthy, and her hair had just a couple white hairs in the thick, brown hair. She had shimmering brown eyes, beautifully done nails, and wore a dress that went down past her knees.

I notice someone standing behind her. Maverick. He had stringy grey hair that didn’t look brushed. He had blue eyes, with a scar over one of them. The scar was the most impressive thing on his face. He was tall, and slim. His name used to be cool when he was an attractive high schooler, but it didn’t sound so cool now.

He was trying to relive the years of popularity he had in high school. In high school, he was attractive, on the football team, and would make the girls go crazy. He was also a cheater, didn’t tell people about his STVs, and was a jerk. But no one seemed to see past the flawless skin and muscles.

He wasn’t so attractive now, he failed high school, was unemployed, had three children all with different mothers, and still lived with his parents at forty-seven.

I moved to the edge of a group near both of them. Nobody seemed to notice, or care. That’s how it was here. You would only get noticed if you tried to join someone who didn’t want you to join them. For me, that was most of the people here.

“What’s a pretty little lady like you doing all alone?”

Dawn spun around, to see Maverick standing behind her, looking down on her fairly short figure.

“I’m taken” she told him

He leaned closer to me. His sour breath on her face. I leaned away.

“He’ll never know”

She leaned away. 

“I’m married to a woman” she told him

He laughed. The cackle sounded like the laugh of a crazy man.

“You think that matters”

“I’m married”

He cackled again.

“You think that matters” he said again

“I’m a faithful wife”

“That’s what they all say”

She’s done with this. She breaks away from the wall and walks over to the bar. She doesn’t order something, just stands near some strong looking people.

The man grimaces and looks around for someone else to bother. Somebody turns up the music which pretty much eliminates private conversations. Somebody yells turn the music down but no one pays attention.

It was just like last time she had been here. Loud, obnoxious, no one cares about you. The best way to keep people from flirting with you was to stand near someone who looked strong enough to scare them away.

I could almost hear the thoughts running through her head. What am I doing here, I don’t belong here.

That’s what she felt twenty-four years ago. I also felt that way. The difference was that she left, and I stayed. She left everything behind, the city, her boyfriend. Me. 

My face twisted into a grimace when I remembered how she left me. She didn’t tell me. She used to tell me everything. But not this.

I debated on whether I should talk to her. See how her life is going. Did she really get married, or was that a lie. She was never afraid to lie if she needed to get out of a conversation. 

I had no doubt that if she was in a relationship, then it would be with a woman. It was clear, to me at least, that she was lesbian.

Last time I talked to her face to face, she didn’t believe it, her parents didn’t believe it, I was her only friend that believed it. But judging on her claiming to be married to a woman, I don’t think she didn’t quite believes that she thought she is straight anymore. Or at least, she isn’t so homophobic anymore.

I wonder how she feels about me. Her former best friend. We had been friends since we were nine, and we were friends until she turned twenty-two. She was forty-six now, did she still remember me. Or has she forgotten all about me in the last twenty-four years.

I hope that isn’t the case. She was my best friend, I believed she was like a soulmate for friends. We had no secrets. I would share everything with her, she would share everything with me.

She was the one true friend I had. The only one that hadn’t broken off when I told her I was bi, although that was after she moved away. But we would still write letters to each other. She was the best friend I had ever had. I will never have something like that again.

If I talked to her now, would we rekindle our friendship, would she hug me and say she missed me, or would she not recognize me. Not recognize the first person she shared the news of her boyfriend with, not recognize the person who had been her for years and gave her advice on how to get her boyfriend.

Or was I just a creepy forty-six year old, staring at someone who used to be my friend. Wishing she would look back at me. Thinking that we were still friends.

It’s not like it matters. Nothing would change anyway. I saw her turn around. Her eyes met mine for a split second before I looked away. I glanced back up to see that she was talking to a woman about our age that had moved here after she left.

I pushed down the jealousy that came with seeing her talk to another girl before me. Someone she had never met before. I looked away. It didn’t matter anyway.

We would never be friends again and that was all that mattered.