The Science of Growing Apart

13- Toby

"Do you think that once you're a famous scientist, you'll be able to solve acne?" I asked Casey as I looked in the camera version of myself on my phone, poking at a red pimple on my chin.

"I'm not going to be a dermatologist, so no," he answered me as he adjusted his suit jacket. I knew that he only came to the homecoming dance at my school because it meant a lot to me. I loved the dances, getting dressed up and dancing all night, but Casey felt awkward because he didn't know very many people from my school. The travesty of having a best friend that didn't go to the same school as me.

He tutored some of the kids in younger grades, so he could smile and wave to a handful of familiar faces, but that was about it. So it meant a lot to me that he showed up, because I knew he was doing it just for me.

"That's a shame," I said.

"You look fine, Josie," he rolled his eyes at me. "Stop obsessing over it."

"I can't, it's so obvious," I continued to complain and poke at the pimple until a boy from my grade, Mason Lowdry, approached us where we were sitting off to the side of the dance on the bleachers. It was early in the dance before I could convince Casey to come dance with me. That was the cycle we went through at events like this. We would sit off to the side while Casey felt awkward until I could talk him into joining in on the fun and once I got him on the dance floor, I wouldn't be able to get him off. We were both terrible dancers, but that was part of the fun.

"Hey, Josie," Mason greeted me with an easy smile on his face, running his fingers through his curly black hair. "You want to dance?"

Quickly, I glanced over at Casey, who was smiling back at me. I didn't really want to dance with anybody other than Casey, but almost two years had gone by and he gave me no sign of feeling the same way. Even if I wanted to dance with Mason, it would be rude to leave Casey by himself when he didn't know anybody else here. "Go on, crater face," he finally said, nudging toward the dance floor. "I'll be fine."

The way he sounded so easygoing about it twisted a knot in my stomach, because I didn't want him to be okay with me dancing with other guys. I couldn't force him to reciprocate those feelings, so I just stood and said, "Okay. Sure, Mason."

As if I had to prove to Casey that I didn't mind dancing with other guys.

"You look nice tonight," Mason commented as we joined the dance floor during a slow song. He put his hands on my waist, but kept himself at arm's length.

"Thank you." I smiled at him, but only wished that it was Casey saying those words to me. "You're looking pretty snazzy yourself."

Mason was a good kid and we were good at exchanging sarcastic remarks every time Mr. Denton snored through another history channel documentary in our American history class. Still, I felt bad for dancing with him when I knew very well that I wouldn't be able to give myself to anybody else. Not when Casey held all of me in his palm without even knowing it.

I danced with Mason for two songs, but then the ChaCha Slide came on and immediately had to ditch him on the floor to find Casey.

"Come on," I found him on the bleachers where I left him and quickly started pulling on his hand to get him to come dance. "You have to dance to this one song, at least."

"Josie, no," he said, but he was laughing. The ChaCha Slide was kind of our thing, which was so lame, but we created our own dance for it and found it hilarious when everybody else would be doing the same exact dance moves and probably thought we were just incompetent at the ChaCha Slide because we were doing all the wrong moves. "Everybody's going to laugh at us."

"So what?" I countered, tugging until he finally relented. "Don't take life so seriously, Case. Little bit of laughter isn't gonna kill you."

He was pretty easy to convince and soon, we were joining the dance floor to make an absolute fool of ourselves. As shy as Casey was, he really threw caution to the wind when he finally allowed himself to do so. Once he could forget about everybody else watching, he was so carefree with his movements.

We danced like idiots to our own dance, regardless of everybody around us thinking that we were idiots.

"When this song comes on at your wedding someday, everybody is going to think you're crazy," Casey told me through fits of laughter once the song ended. I convinced him to stay on the dance floor for the next few songs.

Even though his comment was harmless, it still felt like a gut punch because he said 'your wedding' instead of 'our wedding' and it was such a stupid thing to feel upset about. I was being so melodramatic, but I couldn't imagine myself ever getting married if it wasn't to Casey. He was the only person that ever understood me. The only person that ever made me feel one hundred percent and completely safe.

I was all in on Casey Gordon, whether he knew it or not.

The lights in the gymnasium started to darken until everything was pitch black and I was growing confused. I didn't remember this happening at the real dance. "Casey?" I called out into the darkness, but all I got back was silence. I shouted his name two more times until I woke myself up from the dream.

I'd been getting these dreams of Casey ever since we reunited at the Korean restaurant and it was really starting to affect my moods. I didn't want to think about him any more than I needed to, but my stupid dream brain thought it'd be nice to take a run down memory lane every time I closed my stupid eyes.

That day of all days was probably the worst one to wake up from a dream like that, because I had a lunch date with dog-loving Toby. I wasn't in the right head space for a date, but I sucked it up and went anyway.

Freshly showered, wearing a pair of nice jeans and a sweater, I met Toby at a taco place about ten minutes from my house. Ironically enough, it almost felt like I was back at that high school gymnasium, accepting a dance from Mason just to prove to Casey that I was good. I was okay, I could date if I wanted to. I could be normal and unaffected by him if I wanted to.

But then the date only lasted ten minutes because the second he learned that I had a cat, he faked an emergency and ditched me with a plate of tacos. At least he left enough money for half of the bill, I thought as I engulfed the first taco. As far as bad dates go, this sure wasn't that bad. At least he let me know up front that he was a nut case and I didn't waste all afternoon.

I stared at my phone while I ate the first taco, wanting to tell Casey about the bad date. That wasn't really anything new, as I felt the urge to tell him anything whenever something happened to me but usually, that urge was usually followed by the cruel reminder that he was no longer interested in hearing about those things.

Now, that reminder didn't come because I knew that maybe he would listen if I wanted to rant to him about dog-loving, nutcase Toby. The barrier between me and dialing his number this time was the fact that I was working very hard to solidify boundaries. Non-friendly boundaries. Boundaries that would be crossed if I picked up that phone and called him.

I would probably have called Natalie if she wasn't shopping with her sister in Virginia that day, because she would definitely come eat these tacos with me. But, she was unavailable and I had a huge platter of tacos staring at me that would not reheat well if I took them home.

But I knew that if I called Casey, it would be a permanent breakdown of those boundaries I created. If I gave him one ounce of hope that he could come back into my life, he would take it and he'd run with it. The part of me that wanted that to happen was starting to grow larger every day, and the dreams weren't helping matters.

I did miss him. I did want him in my life. I really wanted to be able to call him to come eat these tacos with me while I complained about my dating life, because that was the friendship I always envisioned we'd have. I was just worried that if I reached out and grasped it, it could slip through my fingers again.

I dialed his number and stared at it on my screen while I ate, but I never hit the green call button. It felt like every time I reached for it, I was smacked in the face with the memory of hiding in my bed for months in tear-soaked blankets when he stopped answering my calls.

If I was going to make that step, it needed to be more thought out than an impulsive desire to hear his voice while I ate my sad tacos.