An Enchanted Night

7*Benji

Harshly whipped back to reality and alone on his motorcycle, Adam begins his midnight drive. There's nobody else milling about his neighborhood as he passes the dark, quiet houses. The homes of former friends. Friends he'd cut off a year ago, today.

He hadn't been able to handle the guilt, the judgment, the look in their eyes. The feeling of everyone knowing his whole world had crashed and burned that night. Had ended. He hadn't wanted to disappoint anyone, especially friends who were trying their best.

Like Benji, he thought, as he passed the pale-yellow home of the Carters. Benji, who had come over every day after the accident even when it meant just watching Adam do nothing. He would sit in a chair, carefully stationed at the end of Adam's bed. He'd do homework, or read, and watch as Adam grieved. Until Adam pushed him away.

Literally, had pushed him out of the door. Slammed it in his face and ignored his pleas. "I'm worried about you, man, please let me stay," Benji had begged. Adam didn't reply and locked the door instead, thinking he could lock out any negative thoughts at the same time. No one would be there to stare, pity or judge. All he could think about when he was with people was how they knew him as the guy whose sister died. He had enough reminders of that on the other side of his bedroom.

But Benji hadn't given up. He'd tried to visit every day. When Adam's parents weren't around, the door remained closed and Benji switched to phone calls and texts. Adam didn't understand why Benji never gave up on him. How he could repeatedly forgive Adam's slammed doors and unresponsive phone. But he had.

And Benji was the reason Adam had decided to venture out of his bedroom. When Adam woke up this morning to a voicemail from Benji inviting him to sing a tribute for his sister tonight, he felt an unwavering urge to accept. Benji had never given up on him for an entire year. Benji was arranging a tribute for his sister.

"Benji is good," Adam whispers to himself.

"Not as good as me, of course," his sister giggles in his ear. Adam nearly loses control of his motorcycle as he turns, startled, and looks at his sister with wide eyes. "Watch the road, you idiot! And I'm not the one allowed to drive," she mutters and rolls her eyes.

"You're back," he says in awe, focusing his eyes back to the road in front of him. There is a purple sedan a few miles in front of him now. This, hadn't happened a year ago – all of this is completely new. It isn't a memory, and it doesn't feel like a dream.

"I'm never gone, silly," she replies, squeezing his torso from behind as she holds on to him. "Hey, look, there's a car in front of us," his sister points her finger by the side of his face.

"Yeah?" Adam confirms.

"So," she says as she drags the 'o,' "let's do our wolf pass on them."

"That's dangerous, no," Adam sternly replies.

"Come on, live a little," she whines.

"This is why mom and dad let me buy a motorcycle and you're stuck piggybacking if you want to ride it. You can be so impulsive."

"I'm brave," she counters. "Now, please, it's a tradition, we used to do it all the time. When did you become so boring?"

"I became more safety-conscious," he grumbles and she whines his name in response. "Okay, okay, you win. For the sake of ending your whining, which is starting to become a safety hazard. But keep your hands around my waist the entire time," Adam gives in.

She whispers, "And on three, two, one."