beauty & her beast

2 - my life is ruined

Hayden and I had meant to see Kung Fu Panda that fateful day, but hadn't had the insight to buy tickets beforehand. By the time we'd arrived at the theater, seats were completely booked, and the only movie near the same time was Iron Man.

So we grudgingly bought tickets, loudly complaining about how cheesy this superhero looked, and made our way into theater nine.

Not even ten minutes into the movie, Hayden and I were both hooked. And so our Marvel obsession began: poring over the craziest theories, first in line to watch every new release at our tiny local theater, and begging for every figurine and DVD there was.

We were nineteen when we'd gone to see Winter Soldier, and debated about the nature of Steve and Bucky's relationship.

My mom had died a week later, and the first person outside of my family I'd seen was Hayden. His face was ghost white and he stood stock still. He told me later I was shaking so much he thought I might fall off the bed. He'd opened my bedroom door, just a silhouette lit against the darkness of my room. Even curled up, staring at nothing, I'd known exactly who it was by the sound of his footsteps. When I'd started to shake again, drawn back into the familiar nightmare, he'd rushed over and pulled me in for one of his famous hugs.

"Hey hey hey hey," he'd whispered under his breath, squeezing me tight enough that I knew he had needed the hug too. "I'm here for you. I always will be. I'm with you til the end of the line."

There was maybe nothing else he could have said in that moment to comfort me more, and it made me sit up slowly for what seemed like the first time in days. As I stared at him, dark hair and crashing ocean eyes, I knew he was hurting just as bad as I was. My mom had always joked Hayden was like the good son she'd never had. But he wasn't going to show it for me, because I needed him here. I needed him to be my rock in the river.

"Til the line of the end," I whispered back, and it wasn't until he cracked the tiniest, tiniest smile that I realized what I'd said wrong.

For some reason, that was the thing that made the dam break. I hadn't cried up until then. It hadn't seemed real, maybe. But that stupid tiny thing was it - I started laughing a little, making him startle a little and draw back. The laughing abruptly turned into sobbing and I buried my face into his shirt, wanting, no, needing his familiar caramel and pine scent.

Whenever things got tough, that's what we said to each other. Before finals, we muttered it to each other as a superstitious good luck charm.

"I'm with you til the end of the line."

"Til the line of the end."

When I dropped out of college, hoping desperately I was doing the right thing, it was the first words we exchanged. In the anger or confusion or misery, it was a helping hand. A small reassurance that Hayden and I always had each other. Eventually, it was shortened to "End line?" "Line end."

After our rare fights, it was the unspoken right way to apologize. Which is why I avoided Hayden for an entire week after my realization: if he had come up to me and said "End line", there's absolutely nothing I could have done to resist telling him everything. During the first week without him, I discovered three things.

First, I'd always had Hayden. Always. Our fights had never lasted more than a couple hours before there was something I just had to tell him or show him, and vice versa. Since Hayden was always there, I'd never really needed to branch out and make more friends. The closest thing to a best friend I had now was a girl named, ironically, Jess Park, who I became a lot closer with suddenly.

Second, Hayden was seriously hard to avoid. His sheer determination to talk to me resulted in countless texts and calls, waiting at my favorite Starbucks until he saw me, and even showing up at my house one day. I knew if he got me, he would offer an "end of the line" and an apology, despite the fact that he had no reason why he was apologizing.

Third, I was an absolute bitch. I couldn't talk to him or look at him without either wanting to slap myself or slap him. It was easy to see how much our separation was hurting him, but I couldn't bring myself to talk to him. I felt unreasonably hurt a week and a half later when he decided screw her and threw himself into soccer more intensely than ever. Hayden played for the Stanford team, which was already a huge time commitment, especially with the end of the season drawing nearer. I could feel his absence through the silence on my phone. I knew what was running through his head. If she wants it to end that way, let the line end.

I was hanging out with Jess that day, ranting about the entire situation.

"... and it's not even that I love him. I mean, I thought that at first. But I don't think it's love, because we've never even kissed. What if we don't have any sparks? What if he likes me and we kiss and the universe just gives us a huge fuck you because it feels like kissing a brother. Or your dad."

Jess twists up her face. "Please don't talk about kissing your dad. Gross. And your brother's, like, fifteen."

"Sixteen, actually. But you see what I mean. What if it's awful and feels wrong and then it's just fourteen years of friendship down the toilet? What if his breath smells like dead fish? What if he doesn't even-"

"Stop," interrupts Jess. "Listening to you obsess is giving me a headache. Okay, look, you guys have been best friends for fourteen years. If you say you like him, and he doesn't like you back, it wasn't meant to be. You'll move on. You've been saying this same stuff the last week and I think you're really just dragging out telling him. Because you know you have to tell him... right? Watching you two apart is hurting me. Emotionally. And I rarely have emotions."

I take a deep breath. "You're right, you're right. I'm sorry I've been bugging you with this all week. It's just that - "

"He's your best friend, and this changes everything," Jess interrupts. "I know. You've said it. For the past week. But I really think you've gotta do something about this, before your brain explodes. Or mine, if I have to keep listening to this for the rest of our lives."

"I just don't think I can tell him. I don't have the bravery. Maybe if I apologize he'll be willing to hang out again or something."

Jess sighs. "I think it's only going to hurt worse if you hang out with him and he doesn't know."

"This conversation is making me feel sick," I mutter. "I want him to know, but I don't want to tell him myself."

Jess opens her mouth, and then closes it again. I can see a plan forming in her head, but she underestimates just how much I refuse to talk to Hayden. Before she proposes something that requires way too much bravery on my part, I push aside the conversation and pull out my homework, effectively changing the subject.