Moving On

Carefully perched on top of the dresser, an old picture in a cracked silver frame looked down upon the room from its relatively high vantage point. Two teenage boys, smiling and laughing like idiots, lit up the entire photo, worn, yellowing edges and all.

The shaggy haired blond had a smaller teen under a golden arm, his white teeth standing out in a nicely tanned face. The smaller teen, a brunette with smooth ivory skin, was nearly bent double, laughing as though his life depended on it. Neither of them looked like they had a care in the world.

Yeah, those were the good old days when we really didn’t have a care in the world. Life was good and we just knew we’d never be separated. We were going to stay together forever, best buds until the end.

I really thought he meant it when he said we’d be together forever. I believed him until he looked me straight in the eye over breakfast and told me he wanted to move out. I don’t like toast much to begin with, but this morning it had tasted positively vile. I would forever associate my best friends departure with the stale flavor of toast and sludge that grudgingly passed for coffee.

“Get a dog,” he’d told me. Move on and start something new. It had been a very grown up thing to do, very professional…and it even made sense. They were two grown men, they couldn’t live together forever. Forever was for little boys huddling together in the dark while a storm raged outside. Forever was for two scared little boys as they dozed next to a cheerful fire discussing what the future would be like. Forever wasn’t for grown men.

If you’d told me years ago while sitting next to that little campfire, or even further back while I clung to the only constant in my existence as we huddled under a blanket trying to hide from the terrifying flashes of lightning, that today I’d be saying goodbye to my best friend in the whole world, I’d have slapped you silly. Yeah, so forever was only in fairy tales, but dammit, I wasn’t ready to grow up yet. I still wanted my happily ever after even if it was just living with my best friend for the rest of my life. I was satisfied with that, happy even, but my better half didn’t agree apparently. So I ran, away from his solemn and confused expression, away from his soul searching blue eyes. It was what I did best, at least that’s what he would have said if he’d been home when I returned.

The jog had helped to clear my head as I knew it would. I loved it when it was just me and the pavement, my feet hitting the concrete in time with the music blaring in my ears. But the normally calming activity had not cleared away the sense of loss that a pair of calm, piercing blue eyes had instilled in me that morning.

And now, four bags of dove chocolate, a cake and a case of watermelon flavored Smirnoff later, I still hadn’t managed to shake off the melancholy.

While he was at work, doing whatever he does best, I was left at home trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. I wouldn’t need to move really, I made enough to cover rent and keep supplies in the house on my own…but what else would I do with my life? There would be no more Friday night movie madness together, no more game night Saturdays…and who would go with me on Wednesday mornings to the park? It was a ritual for Pete’s sake! We’d been together since we were kids, always together, always there when the other needed someone to talk to or at least vent on. I just didn’t know how I would get along without my sidekick.

We have other friends of course…but dammit, there wasn’t a single person I could say I was as close to as Vince! Who would be there in the morning to wake me up when I oversleep? Who would make breakfast when I can’t bring myself to get out of bed? It wasn’t fair, not even a little bit.

Okay so it was fair, at least to him it was. But it was obvious I was the one getting screwed this time…and all he cared about was moving on and finding something better. Better…he had said that hadn’t he? The comment stung, even now after the initial shock had worn off. What had he meant by that comment exactly? Or was I just reading too much into it? What could be better than living the life with your best friend? Was I not good enough for him? Surely that wasn’t the reason…there had to be something else. Was there a girl he hadn’t said anything about? No, that definitely couldn’t be it. The man hadn’t had a girlfriend since Carrie back in the seventh grade. Then what was it?

My attention is drawn to the front of the house as the familiar squeal of a loose car belt slows and then comes to a stop and the quiet rumble of a motor cuts out. The front door opens and I hear the jingle of keys as they are placed in the dish by the door, and then the steady footsteps as my solemn roommate glides quietly into the room. His jacket is deposited on the coat rack neatly and his shoes come off to be placed by the door before he turns to face me once more. His calculating gaze falls on the candy wrappers and empty bottles of Smirnoff lying everywhere before their weight settles on me once more. I can almost hear the gears turning in his head as he searches silently for something to say.

“You started early.” he murmurs quietly, his tone carefully even. I watch as he glides toward me and begins cleaning up my mess of chocolate and beer. He was always like that, trailing behind me to clean up my messes. He was the neat freak while I was the unorganized slob. We had always worked great together as a team. I was the Yin to his Yang, the butter to his cream…and soon we wouldn’t be together. Soon I would have to clean up my own messes, wash my own laundry…cook, clean. I would never see him walking around, calmly scooping up my debris as he did now.

The thought irks me and I reach out as he passes to knock everything out of his hands. He’s instantly tense, angry blue eyes swiveling around to pin me to my spot on the couch.

“And that was for?” he demands, his tone even but slightly strained.

“I can clean up my own mess thank you,” I snap irritably. “You’re leaving, so I have to learn to do it some time.” My words are scathing and childish but there is a small amount of satisfaction in them as he stalks away, shoulders set angrily as he closes himself into his room.

I lower my gaze to the floor and to the mess I had just made and something in my chest tightens. I was being stupid.

It wasn’t like he was leaving me forever, I’d still see him. We just wouldn’t be living together. Still, I wasn’t going to concede the point to him just yet. He’d act all high and mighty and hang it over my head for days…or even until he moved out.

Sighing heavily I climb from the couch and kneel down to begin picking up the wrappers and bottles I had knocked from his hands. When the place is at least livable again I return to my post on the couch to begin my channel surfing for the bazzillionth time that day.

Some time later his door opens and he slips into the room wearing a loose pair of pajama pants and a white t-shirt. Even casual the man had a way of looking neat as a pin. He pointedly ignores me and makes his way into the kitchen, rummaging around for a while until he comes back through carrying a sandwich on a plate and a small glass of orange juice. He disappears once more into his room and the house is quiet once more.

This does not help my mood and I scowl at his bedroom door as though expecting it to burst open at any minute. Maybe if I stared long enough he’d come back out of his room and apologize…tell me it was all a cruel joke and that he wasn’t leaving. Yeah and then he’d declare himself a hippie and stop showering but once a year, grow his hair out and learn how to rap. Oh! And he’d confess that he was really this undercover super spy sent to induct me into some ultra secret pirate/ninja academy.

Yeah, and I was Queen Elizabeth. The drag queen stupid don’t look at me like that.

The bastard was leaving and that was that. I was just going to have to learn to accept it. But as always, without his ever helpful insults to guide me down a clear path I was lost as to why. What had happened to make him want to move away…to move on? I just didn’t understand it.

When an hour had passed finally and there was still no sign of life stirring behind his bedroom door I finally gave up my plan to wait him out and I stalked over to his door.

I had no sooner raised my fist to pound on the wooden barrier before me, fully intent on demanding his presence, when it flew open before had even a chance to utter a single word. I froze to the spot like a dear caught in the lights of an oncoming Mack truck, gazing up into troubled blue eyes blankly.

One glossy black and perfectly shaped eyebrow rose in question and the demands that had waited so patiently on the tip of my tongue, vanished before they had even a chance to form. I was left gaping at him like a fish out of water, unable to make a sound. His voice floated into the silence like silk, cool and smooth.

“If you’ve come to apologize save your breath. Besides, you probably need to brush your teeth anyway. I’m sure beer and chocolate can’t be good for them.” It was the closest thing to a dismissal he was going to give me. He’d never been one to stand up to anyone, choosing to let me fight his battles for him. I was good at that at least. I loved confrontations and I was always quick with a snappy comeback. And yet standing there, facing the biggest jerk in the world, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

He gave an unimpressed sigh and pushed past me, leaving me to gape at the spot he had vacated.

What the hell was that?! I couldn’t seem to wrap my mind around his words…and the most startling revelation of all was, they had hurt like hell.

Clenching my fists tightly I spun on my heels and marched after him. I found him in the kitchen, of course, but instead of the book I expected in his hands he had a newspaper and a bright red marker. For a moment I forgot my initial purpose for storming in and I simply stared blankly at the paper spread out over the table.

“What is that?” I demand. I knew exactly what it was. He was searching through all the homes that were currently for sale or rent. The reality of it all seemed to come crashing down around me and I was left cold and strangely numb.

“I told you, I’m moving out. I’m looking for a place I can rent so I can save up and get a nice house somewhere further away from the city.” he replies coolly, avoiding my gaze easily. I swallow thickly past the lump in my throat and approach the table on unsteady legs. Dropping into the chair across from him I stare until his guarded gaze raises to mine. “What?” he inquires as if he hadn’t just ripped out my insides and presented them to me on a nice silver platter decorated with parsley and lemon. Anger bubbles to the surface before I can stop it and I see the moment of hesitation in him as my expression hardens.

“What? What?! You know exactly what, bastard! You act like you aren’t casually talking about ruining a perfectly good arrangement because you think I’m not good enough to live with anymore!” I see the shock cross his expression a moment before his own hardens and the marker in his hand is set aside. If I didn’t know any better I would have said it was to keep himself from throwing it. But the thought is washed away beneath the vicious sense of satisfaction as his cheeks redden slightly in his anger.

Adrenaline spikes through me when he raises slowly from his chair and comes around the side of the table to face me. “Is that all this is then? An arrangement? Maybe it’s best that I’m moving out if that’s all I am to you.” he ground out angrily, the smoothness of his voice gone deep and gravelly with fury. “You have no right to assume anything about me, Jacob. I have my reasons for leaving, be a man and accept it.” I take his snide comment for the insult it is and ball my hands into fists tightly enough that my knuckles ache from the pressure of it. “Fuck you, Vince.” I snarl and turn away then, determined not to strike out at him.

I storm from the kitchen in a blind fury, hell bent on putting several walls between us before I blow up. My bedroom door slams behind me with a satisfying bang and the rattling of pictures on the walls and all at once the silence is deafening.

My room, unlike the rest of the house, is an unorganized wreck smelling faintly of aftershave that had spilled ages ago and hickory smoke. I worked at a meat packing plant that cured a variety of different meats. I worked in the hickory division so I came home every day after work smelling of hickory smoke. Vince always told me it smelled horrible…I thought it made me smell manly and rugged. To each his own.

Stepping over a pile of clothes I wasn’t sure were clean or not, I found my bed under a mountain of comforters and fell into the cluster of mismatched pillows. I had spent the whole damn day relaxing, as I should on my day off, and yet even now, hours before the sun went down, I was exhausted and ready for sleep. I should have gone back out and jogged off my anger and the ten pounds of sugar I had put into my body but I couldn’t find the energy nor the will to lift myself up off the bed.

Too tired to argue with myself and trip over my own logic, I tug a horrible ochre colored comforter over my shoulder and fall into an uneasy sleep.

TBC
__________________

Okay, end of the first chapter. Bully for me! Whoo! Right, moving on. I really couldn’t do this without my muse, Darksong so please leave some love for this wonderful muse I will never share!

Heh, anyway, please leave some reviews to let me know how you liked it and any suggestions you might have. I already have the whole thing planned out and I plan on updating at least once every couple of days if not sooner! But if I see a suggestion I just can’t ignore I may plan it in *hinthint*

Thanks for reading, please Review!