Butting Heads

“Oh Elvin, it’s you. What bad luck to meet you so early today.”

“Aren’t you tired? Appearing every morning just to say this to me.”

“Me? Appearing? Not a chance. The less I get to see you, the better.”

And so another day started: ordinary, but horribly so, or perhaps it was this horrible feeling of it that had become so ordinary to us: Emil and I, who were already arguing the moment we stepped out of our gates. Ideally, I wouldn’t want to see him any more than he did me, but neither of us had much of a choice. We went to the same school and lived beside each other, so we would invariably leave our houses at around the same time. In fact, we had been around each other ever since we were children: our parents had always been living in this area from before we were born, and regularly interacted with one another, but our relationship had never seemed to improve since then. 

“Idiot!”

“Just so you know, I beat you by two marks last week.”

“That was just a small quiz! I aced the last test—or at least I beat you, and you be sure I’ll do it again!”

“We’ll see. At least in physique, I’m better.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You’re a shortie.”

“You’re saying that? You’re almost the same!”

We walked down the road together, throwing insults and rebuttals at each other as easily as other people might chat about the weather. Then, I saw a girl at the end of the street, sitting under the shelter of her parents’ shop. She was cheerfully sipping a glass of juice as she watched the morning sun, waiting for the two that always bickered endlessly. There my friend was, my real best friend—not the one that people liked to talk and tease me about.

“Olivia!” 

I ran up to her, throwing my arms around her in a hug. She stretched out her arms too, wrapping them around me. In her embrace, she smiled down at me and said, “Good morning, Elvin.” 

“Hi, Olives.” 

Ah. Emil must have caught up with us. 

“Good morning yourself, Lime-y.”

I didn’t understand how the two of them could become friends: my best friend always cheery and caring, my rival always irritating and standoffish. In any case, the presence of a common friend was another way for the world to get at us, making it even harder for me and Emil to get away from each other, as much as we would like to. 

Emil sighed and shrugged. “I told you not to call me that…”

“Well, then you don’t call her Olives!” I interrupted fiercely. 

“Now, now—” Olivia tried. 

“And what’s it to you?” Emil asked, stepping up into my face. 

“She’s my friend!”

“She’s mine too.”

“Now, now…” Olivia tried again, and this time both of us were compliantly silent, reduced to just dangerous stares fixed on each other. “We still have to get to school, you know. Let’s get going.”

We continued walking, the three of us. I moved to one side of Olivia, and Emil moved to the other: the common practice we had to keep our distance. Holding on to Olivia’s arm, I chatted with her while we walked, Emil throwing the occasional comment or quip—sometimes it was an insult, which I would counter in a heartbeat. 

“You know,” Olivia said, “Both of you always come to the store together, don’t you?”

I looked at her incredulously, instantly declaring, “No we don’t!”

“Really?” she asked, with a twinkle in her eyes. I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to retort. “Admit it, Elvin.”

A sigh erupted from the other side of her. “Far too often,” Emil said, with a shake of his head. 

“At least one of you get it.”

My temper rose at her words. “Just so you know, I don’t mean to come to school with him.”

“Neither do I,” Emil said, with a hint of glare in my direction. 

“In fact,” I declared, “If he didn’t come to school one day, I would be glad.”

“Is that so…” Olivia’s shoulders slumped a little. It really must have been hard for her, having two friends who always fought over nothing and everything—even for her friendship, her approval. But as with all things, I was sure that I would be the victor. At least in this, she was certainly my best friend, and me hers. 

And so another day started… I walked out of my house, a little surprised to see that Emil wasn’t at his own gate. Had he left me and went ahead on his own? No way, he couldn’t have. I was the one faster than him, and I would get to walk to school without his irritating presence. What a blessing it had to be! And so another day started: unordinary and wonderful, for any day without Emil in it was surely wonderful for me. 

I walked down the road alone, free from insults and rebuttals. With no one to talk to, I quietly hummed to myself. Today was certainly a good day, I thought. Then, I saw a girl at the end of the empty street—the first person I had seemed to see today. She was cheerfully sipping a glass of juice as she watched the brightened morning sun, waiting for me to arrive. There my friend was, my real best friend—not the one who was strangely absent on such a fine day. 

“Olivia!”

I ran up to her, throwing my arms around her in a hug. She let me fall forward into her embrace, loosely enclosing me in her arms. “Good morning, Elvin.” She glanced behind me. “Oh, where’s Lime?”

I chuckled, standing to look at her. “Lime-y’s not here yet.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow, perhaps at my words or my tone. “You left him behind?”

"Yep!" I said, "We don't need him anyway, Olivia. He’s probably sleeping in or something."

“Huh…” She fiddled with her fingers a little, glancing once more down the road he should have been walking on. Then she turned back to me with a faint smile. “Well, I guess we can go ahead first.”

“Great!”

I moved to one side of her—for no reason than to grab her arm as we walked, chatting placidly. But after some time, placid turned to plain: there was something missing in our conversations that usually so entertained me, something exciting that would keep the conversation moving and changing quickly, like the course of a rapid river rather than that of a trickling stream. 

Perhaps Olivia had sensed this too, for her footsteps slowed, and she glanced behind us. Just what was she looking for? 

She turned to me and said, “You know…”

“Hmm?”

“Emil's really missing, isn't he?"

"Huh?"

"It's not like him…" 

I glanced back too, but could see no sign of him. "Now that you mention it, this does seem kind of…" I wasn't worried, exactly—there was no way I could be worried for him—but the atmosphere without him felt different, felt abnormal. 

Olivia stopped walking, and I slowed to a stop in front of her. "I think something's wrong," she said. 

I felt like she was right, and yet… “Now, Olivia, just calm down. I’m sure nothing happened to him.”

“You sure?”

“Well…” I thought about how to respond for a moment. “I’m sure. We still have school, you know.”

“I know, but…” 

“If you want, you can go visit him after school.”

“Oh, no,” Olivia laughed. “I still have to help out at the shop after school.”

“Oh.” Right. I had forgotten about that. 

“So, how about you go in my stead?”

“No way! Never!”

I stood outside the gate of Emil’s family, carrying a stack of notes and worksheets. I hadn’t wanted to, but… 

“So, who wants to hand Emil his homework?” the teacher had asked.

Before anyone else could respond, Olivia piped up, “I think Elvin would! He lives right next to Emil!”

“Is that so? Then take these, Elvin.”

And here I was, nervously shifting my feet outside Emil’s house. Curse Olivia for sending me here: if she hadn’t, there was no way this awkward situation would be happening. And curse Emil, curse him for everything: if he hadn’t went and gotten ill, there would be no need for all this to begin with; if he hadn’t went and gotten ill, today wouldn’t have been so strange and unfamiliar; if he hadn’t went and gotten ill, I would have been happy not knowing this at all. 

I steeled my nerves. Enough thinking. Time to go into his house. A muffled chime rang through the door, oddly cheerful for someone like Emil to respond to. Maybe his parents would come and I wouldn’t have to see him at all. I waited for a moment. 

“Hello? Oh Elvin, it’s you.”

“Yes, it is. Here’s your homework.”

He sighed. “What bad luck, meeting you when I’m in a state like this.”

I looked him up and down. He was weaker than normal, far weaker. His face looked a little pale, a little feverish. And even his insults lacked a certain punch that I was used to. 

“Do you…need me to help you bring these in?”

“No,” he said, snatching the stack of papers from me, “Thank you very much. I can handle this on my own.”

“Are you sure?” I said with a grin. “You look pretty weak, you know.”

“Ah, go home already. I don’t want to see your face. The less I get to see you, the better.” And with that, he closed the door on me. 

And so another day ended: horrible but ordinary. But at least it was ordinary. And for all of our imaginable lives, Emil and I, it would continue to be.