Short Stories (bxb)

Happy Place Pt. 3: How to Lose a Friend

By the time Danny got to high school, he found that Santiago, already there for a year, was somewhat of a celebrity.

He had made and started on the varsity soccer team as a freshman. He'd been on the Homecoming court, and probably would be again this year. He'd dated a few girls -- never anything serious, but enough to get people talking. Teachers and students alike loved him, and the great part was, he was actually popular because he was nice. He didn't act like a douchebag, he talked to everyone no matter their social group, and he stood up for kids that needed it.

People found him intriguing, because he was something of a mystery. Though outgoing, everyone who knew him eventually came to realize that they didn't know much about him. Even his close friend circle found him strangely hesitant to delve deep about much of anything -- he provided jokes and smiles, but never emotions and secrets, and he always seemed distracted, like his mind was elsewhere.

Danny didn't get quite the same reputation as Santiago. Or much of a reputation at all -- most kids didn't know he was there. He kept his old friends, Aika and Layla, and every once in a while made acquaintances with the kids that sat around him, but he never had much presence in a room. He was still shy and jumpy. He got startled by fast movements and loud noises. He was silent whenever he didn't have to talk. He had his few friends and didn't seek out more. He was extremely smart but never showed it — he didn't raise his hand to answer questions, so that only the observant few who noticed that he was a year or two younger than the rest of the class, or that he never answered wrong when he was called on, saw how intelligent he was.

He and Santiago seemed more different than ever in the polarized high school spectrum. Yet they always found a way to meet in the middle. And there were certain aspects of themselves that stayed only between them.

     Santiago saw the sarcastic, funny, bold side of Danny. Danny could get really happy sometimes, and he would make stupid jokes and run around and be spontaneous and loud. He would go on rants about concepts and subjects that most kids his age couldn't hope to understand. He would express his political opinions without hesitation, and curse out the things he thought were worst in the world. Danny Alvarez could be full of energy and joy and life — nobody but Santiago ever saw that.

     And Danny got to see the deep, emotional parts of Santiago. All of the affection and thought, all of the things that made him a real person. The good . . . but also the bad.

    Santiago could get really, really sad sometimes. And he would seem like a different guy — quiet and frustrated and unwilling to do much of anything. He would say things — really dark things, things that made Danny worry — like they were nothing. Nobody else knew that side was there. And nobody else could make him feel better.

     Danny wore his bad on his sleeve, keeping the good locked up within him. Santiago was the exact opposite — he projected what everyone wanted to see, and he hid his ugly.

      Maybe that was what made them work so well. Whatever the case, from the first day of Santiago's sophomore year, when Danny came in as a freshman, they were inseparable once more.

Their schedules were pretty hectic. Santiago had club and school soccer to worry about, alongside student council and keeping up with homework. Danny had heaps and heaps of difficult schoolwork every night, plus a new job that he worked extra hours for so he could be independent. They barely had time for themselves. Yet they somehow always made time for each other.

"I miss you," Santiago huffed one day, halfway into the school year, draped across the yellow couch in their cabin like a ragdoll.

Danny chuckled. "I see you every day," he said as he scribbled the answer to a Calculus problem in his notebook.