Friends: A Short Story by Willa

Friends 

~ Willa

       “This thing is dripping everywhere,” she muttered with distress, instinctively standing up to keep the can of Coke at arms-length even though some had already gotten on the sleeve of her sweater.

       “See, this is why I don’t drink carbonated substance,” he supplied unsympathetically as he leaned back comfortably on the bench. This was a lie, of course. He didn’t drink soda for many reasons, but he tirelessly enjoyed persuading her to convert, nevertheless. Lazily, he folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes contentedly. “Too messy.”

In response, she reigned the soda back in and took a long sip just to spite him. He opened an eye and regarded her irritably at her gulping noises. She smiled smugly at him, her mouth full.

       “Can’t you drink like a normal person?”

She swallowed.

       “Can’t you say ‘soda’ like a normal person?” she countered, wiping her palm on the thigh of her jeans before plopping down next to him again.
       “Don’t say ‘carbonated substance’. It sounds weird. It sounds like you’re one of those British narrators from Animal Planet.”

       “What the fuck does carbonated substance have to do with animals?”

       “Stop, though. Seriously.”

       “Fine, your Highness. What does soda have to do with animals?”

       “I never said it had anything to do with animals, I was just using it to—You know what, nevermind,” she scoffed, clearly too involved with attempting to wipe the Coke off of her sweater sleeve to debate with him.
       “What time is it?”

       He smirked at her, clearly rejoicing in this small victory as he glanced down at his watch.

       “1:04. What time’s your plane?”

       “Oh, right. Shit. It’s 1:00 already? I should really get going, then. Plane leaves at 3:00.”

       He rolled his eyes at this. He never understood why she needed to be early to everything.
       “Calm your tits, would you? You’ve got two hours.” She stared at him incredulously, clearly irritated by his indifference.

       “Right. It totally doesn’t take forty-five minutes to get to the airport, and you know, not that I have to put my suitcase in the thingy or go through security and all that stuff and then actually get onto the plane. Plus, you have all those foreign security things and my visa stuff.”

       “I’m just saying, it’s not the end of the world if you get there a little late.”

       She ignored him as she stood up, and with a giant few gulps, she finished the rest of the Coke. She let off a satisfied sigh as she withdrew the can, her eyes darting about.
       “Is there a recycling bin anywhere?”

       “How the hell would I know? Just throw it in the trash. Stop being such a tree-loving hippie.”

       “Yeah, and just watch when there aren’t any more trees left,” she returned hotly. “And then the last thing you’ll think before you die is, ‘Oh, I should’ve listened because she’s so much smarter than me’.”

       “First of all, I don’t need trees to live anyway,” he corrected coolly, sitting up a bit taller. “I don’t need oxygen to breathe. And secondly, I’m two years older than you --technically nine years older – therefore I’ve been here longer and have more smarts than you’ll ever have, earthworm.”

       Again, she ignored him, instead busying herself with tossing the Coke can into the trashcan. He was beginning to get irritated with how she failed to engage with him when it came to this kind of frequent bickering. He often satisfied himself with the thought that she probably didn’t know what to say back, though he was familiar with how unlikely this was, considering he begrudgingly admired her mental quickness and sharp tongue.

       “Did you really tell me to ‘calm my tits’?” she brought up suddenly, casting a look over her shoulder.

       “Yeah. Not that you’ve got any.”

       She glowered, her resentment simmering as she hitched her crossed arms high up over her chest. He grinned arrogantly at her. She hated when he poked fun and he used it to his advantage whenever possible.

       “I have tits. Just because they aren’t weighing me down doesn’t mean they aren’t substantial.”

       “Oh, shut up, shortstuff. Nobody cares.”

       “I care,” she retorted, her glare intensifying.

       “Oh my god.”

       “What?” she snapped irritably, looking away fiercely.

       “Oh my god. Oh Jesus.”

       “What?”

       “Oh my god. You really are starting to sound to like a girl. Next thing you know you’ll be crying about pimples—”

       “—fuck off—”

       “—and cutting yourself because you want to look like those girls in the magazines and complaining about your weight and going on salad-and-water diets,“ he went on cheerfully, thoroughly enjoying himself.

       “I hate you.”

       “No, but really. Shut up. You look fine.”

       She was still looking away from him. He noticed how red she looked, and such a reaction made him grin even wider. “I should go. I’m going to be late.”

       “Fine, leave me here,” he teased lightly, before hitching himself up against the bench seat into a stand. She wrapped her fingers around the handle of her rolling suitcase.

They both stood. They both looked at each other.

       “So this is really it, then?”

       “Pretty sure,” she replied breezily, tucking her dark hair messily behind her ear. “If I find him, I’ll stay. And if I don’t, I’m coming back and moving to California with my dad and his twenty-something girlfriend. You got my cell number and email?”

        He was quiet for a while. As much as he liked to think her company annoyed him, it honestly and truly didn’t. He had a feeling he was going to miss the nights where she’d invite him over at 2 in the morning to watch those stupid slasher movies she always loved and when she’d drag him to amusement parks. He’d miss how she would force him to try all the rides with her. He was even going to miss their arguing and their pointless debates.

       “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

       “Great. Give me a call, yeah? And send me stuff. I like getting things.”

       “What’s the time difference, again?”

       “Seven or eight hours ahead, something like that.”

       “Jesus. And I hear it’s cold as fuck there. And there are a bunch of angry drivers.”   

       “There are angry drivers everywhere,” she pointed out.

       “Especially there. Send me a picture of you wearing a ushanka, will you?”

       “What’s that?”

       “You know. Those hats with the ear things.”

       “Oh, so that’s what their called.”

       The two shared an amused pause. She released her suitcase to hug him. He didn’t return the embrace. He wasn’t willing to accept the fact that she was actually going.

       “Fuck you, man. I’m leaving for probably forever and you’re not even going to give me a hug?”

She was leaving, but she was still her. He snorted before finally relenting, offering a half-armed hug in return.

       “Yeah. Take care, Ruby.” She smiled and reached up to flick the center of his forehead.

       “I will, Drew.”