Before We Left, Part Two

One Week Later…

Bruce and I spent the last week just doing stupid things. Mostly just sitting under the bridge on B St Trail. We ended up eating almost every meal together. Today we were just sitting in his house, while his sister Gemma was working late. Tonight we were watching The Last Summer. It’s a romance movie about a bunch of teenagers during the summer before they start college.

I was just sitting on the other side of the couch looking at Bruce as he was paying more attention to the movie than I was. The way he stared so intently at the TV was fascinating. He then looked at me and started blushing.
“What are you looking at?” he asked

I panicked. How long was I zoning out? When did he actually notice? “What?” I said nervously. “Sorry, I was zoning out. I’m not a big rom-com fan I guess.”

He chuckled a little bit at how nervous I look. “You know you’re cute when you’re nervous.”

I blushed a bit at his comment. Then even more at the smile that followed. Then I looked at the clock and saw that it was two in the morning.

“Uh oh,” I said, “Bruce, I should go home. We’ll talk tomorrow though okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. He gave me a kind of sad look. 

I had no idea what may have no idea what was going on in his head. I stopped thinking about it for a bit.

I gave him a hug goodnight. There was something different about it this time. It almost felt like there may have been something in that hug. Then we let go, and I see him giving me a cute smile.

“Goodnight, Bruce,” I said, “enjoy your movie.”

I walked back up the driveway to my house. When I got into my room I checked my phone to see all of my streaks. Even though I only had like one at the time. Bruce had sent me a snap. It was just a black picture that said; I had a great time today. Even though you left in the middle of the movie.

I smiled at the message. I then ended up thinking about everything that happened today. We spent the day eating snacks underneath a bridge, then we went back to his house and watched movies until 2 in the morning. The hug he gave me when I left was a little weird. He put a lot more feeling into it than he normally would. It was like he may feel the same way. I dismissed the thought and went to the idea that it was just because we were gonna be in different cities in less than two months. He was probably just upset that he’s gonna have to try and find new friends where he’s going and to be honest, so was I. For very different reasons than him.

I sat on my bed and stared at the picture he gave me last week. I just thought for a minute about how much we’ve both changed over the years. Back then my black hair was down to the middle of my back. Now it was cut so that it’s just above my shoulders. I still don’t wear makeup, but I think I’ve gotten much taller in the last few years, but Bruce, we’ll he stayed pretty much the same. His dark brown hair stayed short and well managed. He continued to wear his black turtlenecks and brown leather jacket. The only difference is that back then he was trying to grow a beard, but he gave up on that in the middle of Junior Year. I chuckle at the thought of the fuzz that was all over his chin for 6 months. Then I started to get sad. How have I never said anything to him about this. We’ve been in each other’s lives for 13 years. We know almost everything about each other. I should’ve been able to tell him by now. So why didn’t I? Maybe I’ve just been so scared over the years that telling him would’ve messed up our friendship, or maybe part of me always knew that it would only end badly…

To Be Continued… 

8 years ago…

DIANA

3 weeks ago, Bruce and his parents were in a car accident. Bruce survived and was rushed to the Intensive Care Unit. But his parents didn’t make it.

It was the end of the school day. Most of the 5th graders were on the playground playing tag or something. The others were playing four square or basketball. But Bruce had just gotten out of the hospital. He had bandages almost everywhere on his arms, and a good portion of them was also on his neck. His doctors told him not to exert himself too much. So I noticed that after school, while he was waiting for Gemma to pick him up, he wasn’t playing with the other kids. He was sitting on the stairs by himself. And it looked like he was crying. I hated to see my friend sad. So I walked over to him to see if he was okay.

“Hey,” I said

He didn’t say anything. But he moved to the side a little bit so I could sit down. When I did he gave me a tight embrace. At first, I was shocked. For as long as I had known him Bruce had never given anyone a hug. He wasn’t very fond of physical contact. So the fact that he was hugging me surprised me. But once I got my bearings, I put my arms around him and let him cry on my shoulder. On any normal day, I would never have let someone cry into my clothes. I was wearing my favorite sweater. But for some reason this was different. It wasn’t because Bruce had just lost his parents. Or because he was injured. When I really think about it, that may have been the day I realized how I felt about him. 

I didn’t realize it then was that I would never feel the same way about anyone else…

Present-day…

I woke up to a phone call from my mother.

“Hello,” I said

“Hi Diana, how is your summer going so far?” 

“It’s going well. Thank you for asking. How’s Europe?”

“Oh Diana it’s lovely,” she said. “And how is Bruce? Have you told him anything yet?”

Somehow my mother can always figure these things out. “No, I haven’t. And I don’t think I should. He’s leaving in just a few weeks. It’s not like anything we’d have would last very long.”

“Diana, when you love someone, you need to make sure they know it. Otherwise, you’ll always regret it. I’ve watched you grow up being in love with him. If you don’t tell him soon, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

The call failed after that. So I got to thinking. She was right. I needed to tell him. I just didn’t know how to. So I ended up thinking. First I wrote a four-page love letter explaining exactly how I felt about him. But then I realized that he lives a driveway away from me. So then I wrote down a stupid plan involving a super elaborate meal thing. When I realized that was stupid I decided I would just tell him. So I rehearsed what I would say.

“Bruce, I need to tell you something. Ever since we were kids, you’ve always been here.” I’m gonna skip all of the touchy-feely stuff I was saying through that. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I love you, Bruce.”

‘Jeez,’ I thought ‘maybe I should just be direct and say it?’

At that point, I decided to fall face-first into my pillow.

“Pity party of one,” I said,

BRUCE

That same night…

As soon as Diana had left I turned off the movie. I had already seen it like 3 times. Mr. Herbst was right. Watching the same movie over and over again will take the joy out of it. Not only that, but the only reason I picked that movie was for Diana. It was very accurate for our situation. We were both going to colleges in different cities. But in addition to all of that, I’ve also been in love with her since the 7th grade. Ever since the accident, Diana had been my rock. I know it was really stereotypical, some guy falling in love with his best friend. But forget about that. I have loved Diana since I was old enough to know what love is.

Diana was always there for me. After my parents died, I spent most of my time over with Diana. But the day I wanted to tell her, she got hit by a car. And it’s not like I’d be able to tell her while she’s in the hospital, and while she was in physical therapy, I couldn’t tell her. I guess I just got really worried that if I told her, something worse would happen to her than before. I know statistically speaking that wouldn’t happen again, but 14-year-old me was way too superstitious for his own good. After a while, I kind of came to accept the fact that nothing would happen between us. That we were just better off as friends. But I knew I needed to tell her. I had to let her know how I felt. But I wasn’t sure how to do it. At first, I thought I should just write her a letter like one of those stereotypical romantic comedy guys from the ’90s. But then I remembered that Diana hated 90’s movies. She thought they were boring and pointless. Then I thought about recording a video message before I left for Klamath Falls. But then I realized how stupid that was. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me. But for some reason, I couldn’t figure out how to do it. But then I heard Gemma pull up in the driveway. When she walked in she saw me lying with my head on the arm of the couch. Gemma sat down on the chair across the room and said,

“Alright, what’s wrong,” she said. “Diana?”

I nodded, “I don’t know how to tell her. I’ve tried thinking of things but they’re all stupid.”

She gave me her therapist look. Which was ironic because she wasn’t even a therapist. She was a surgeon, “Well have you tried just coming out and saying it?”

“Gemma the last time I tried that she got hit by a car.”

“You know statistically speaking that will never happen again right?” she said,

I chuckled a bit. My superstitious self sometimes amused me. As much as I kept believing that could happen to her again, Gemma was right. I should just tell her. I only have a few more weeks before I leave anyway.

“You’re right,” I said, “now I’m gonna go to bed. I’ll talk to you later.”

I got up, but I felt a slight jolt of pain in my chest when I did. I decided to dismiss it and walked into my room to see that old picture of me and Diana form when we got out of middle school. We were so excited then. Her hair was a lot wavier then. But her eyes held the same joy they always had. I still wore my typical black turtleneck. Even in the middle of June. She had a necklace around her neck that her mom had gotten her the last time they went to Europe. Gemma was right. I need to just come out and tell her. Be straightforward about it. I shoot Diana a snap telling her I had a great time. But then I ended up thinking about how she was staring at me partway through the movie. Could it be that maybe she felt the same about me?