Shades Of Blue

8. Fret

Neel

September

Age 20

With all that they had been through, it unnerved Neel that he was intimidated by Benjie. In his dorm room, he carefully picked out a slate blue button up shirt and a pair of blue jeans. Dawning his black rimmed spectacles, Neel analyzed his own appearance scrupulously in the mirror before he carefully styled his short, dark hair with a speck of hair gel. His deep, dark brown eyes gazed back at him, unimpressed as he ran his hand over the beard he was growing. With a sigh, he fetched his old watch and latched it onto his wrist.

Neel ran his thumb over the watch's face, then looked back up to behold his own. Perfect. That's what Benjie used to call him.

He hated this fear that dwelled inside. It brought back insecurities he'd thought were long dead. Not so. Not dead. Just sleeping. Rationally, he knew there was nothing to fear. Benjie was his best friend. Or, he had been. That pause, that heart-wrenching, agonizing pause had changed everything. It had changed Neel, locking him away in solitude until he grew bitter. It had changed Neel's family, his parents never looking at him the same way again. And it changed Benjie, who wouldn't look at Neel at all for what felt like millennia. For a while, Neel was convinced he'd be dead before Benjie would talk to him again.

That afternoon, Neel was supposed to accompany Benjie back to the loft to help him unpack. Jet-lag had gotten in the way of that. Tonight could be different. A conversation aided by booze could at least bring them back to the friendship that had weathered so many years and curve-balls. Now, finally, there were no obstacles like there always had been. Now they could be together. Wasn't that what Benjie wanted? Wasn't that why he flew across the country? It seemed now that Neel was the only one that stood in his own way.

Booze would help. It always had. Perhaps it would lead them back to old tendencies. Maybe this wouldn't be as difficult as Neel feared. Alcohol had always helped them better gravitate to one another with ease, their shame dulled. When they were younger, it had also been the veil they hid behind, giving them a defense in saying, "I can't remember," or "I was too shitfaced to know what I was doing," or Neel's loathsome favorite, "I was so drunk, I didn't know who you were." But that was then. They were men now, not ignorant, craven teenagers. Although, Neel had to wonder if that shame that used to hover over Benjie would still be lingering now after so long. He couldn't stand to see Benjie go through that again, the shame eating away at him until he violently hated himself.

In hindsight, Neel could see how difficult it had all been for Benjie. It was always challenging for him, but their last couple of years in high school had been brutal not only for Benjie, but for Neel as well. The only way to get through it was to remind himself that he was simply collateral damage, getting the leftovers of the main payload that had smashed into Benjie. It was the only way to keep himself from hating his best friend.