Root Beer

I stare out at the sky, a gentle breeze running its fingers through my reddish-brown hair. The clouds move their way slowly across the sky, creating stories but only showing me part of them. I stretch my imagination, trying to guess what's happening with the figures, the fish, the flower, the dinosaur. Are they all separate stories, or do they all fit together somehow?

I feel a light tap on my shoulder and when I look up, Oli is standing over me holding two brown bottles.

"Mind if I take a seat?" he asks. I shrug, scooch over, and make room on the curb for him. It's not the most comfortable seat, but I can see the sky, so I don't really care.

He hops down next to me. Then, he takes the caps off of both the bottles and hands one to me. I accept it and take a sip. I'm immediately hit with the delicious, sweet flavor of root beer. I take small, slow gulps trying to savor the wonderful taste for as long as possible.

Oli swallows a mouthful, then looks up at the sky for a minute gathering his thoughts.

"So, what happened?" he asks me bluntly.

I can't say I'm really surprised. He's lived next door to me all my life, he's basically my best friend, and he can always identify when something's bothering me.

"I just had a fight with Henry. I don't know what's going on in his head lately. He's been so different, distant I guess."

Oli thinks for a second.

"What was the fight about?" he asks.

I sigh.

"Something stupid."

"It can't be that stupid if it's bothering you so much."

"I don't know, I get bothered by stupid stuff all the time."

"Tell me. Maybe I can help."

I take a sip of root beer.

"Well, he just made a joke that made me uncomfortable. I told him I didn't like it, but he didn't seem to get it. At first, I actually didn't think it was a joke, so when he told me, I felt kind of dumb. After that, I tried explaining to him that there's a time and a place for certain jokes. I didn't really phrase anything right; it all came out wrong and it just made everything worse."

Oli gulps down some more root beer.

"Did he just not understand that there are some jokes you don't make at certain times, or what?"

"He says that since it's just a joke, it's okay. But it's not. I wasn't the audience, it wasn't the time, it wasn't the place. Now, he won't even talk to me." I feel my eyes starting to water, I don't want to cry again, but I don't know if I can help it. I drink some more of my root beer and Oli puts his arm around my shoulders, making an awkward attempt to be comforting.

"I think you're right, if that helps. There are just some places you don't make jokes, or some people you don't make them in front of. You're phrasing may have been wrong, but hopefully he understands the concept."

"Honestly, I'm still annoyed with him. I hate that he can't seem to get it. But I hope he'll try to understand. Or, at very least, get over it so we can be friends again."

Oli pats my shoulder.

"You're not going to be friends again if you don't make an effort."

"What do you mean?"

"If you don't try talking to him, nothing's ever going to get better." He stops. "How long ago was this fight?"

"It happened this morning. I tried texting him to apologize but he hasn't responded."

"Why don't you leave him alone until tomorrow and try talking to him in the morning?"

I take a long drink from my root beer then shake my head.

"I want to talk to him and I'm willing to wait for tomorrow, but what if he's still mad and doesn't want to talk about it?"

Oli drinks some more.

"I can come with you, if you want. For support."

"He might freak out about it. For some reason, during our fight, he accused me of telling my friends awful and untrue things about him. I have no idea where he got that from, but if I bring you along, he might try using that again and it'll just make things worse."

Oli nods and slowly sips more root beer as he thinks.

"How about, when we come up, you say you want to talk and tell him that you brought me along to be an unbiased third party, a fresh perspective. We'll tell him that I've already heard your side of the story and that I want to hear his side, so I have all my facts straight. If he still gets mad, he's not worth your time. Honestly, you're still trying to apologize, your tearing yourself up over it, you feel very guilty even though you did nothing wrong, all of that makes me think that you are a better friend than he is and that he's lucky to have you there for him. I know I feel lucky." Oli smiles when he says that.

"Maybe you're right, but I know I messed up too and I can't just leave it like this. I at least have to try." I chug the rest of my root beer.

"And that's what makes you a million times better than Henry. You can admit when you mess up and try to make up for it. I typically see him scrambling to cover up his mistakes, you just want to fix it."

"If I'm so much better, then why do I feel so much worse?"

"Because you care about him even though he hurt you. It just means you're a good person."

I set my bottle down next to me, then lean back on the grass next to the curb and stare at the sky. Soon, Oli follows me and lays down too.

"It's going to be okay Melody. And if it doesn't work out like you'd hope, I'll be right here for you, trying to make you feel better because that's what proper friends do."

"Thanks Oli."

"It's no problem Mel."