“Dope,” Mars answered. “I’ll hit him up.”
“Cool,” I replied and did my best to bury the emotions I couldn’t explain.
* * *
Clark walked into the Steel Rose, then brushed the rain off his jacket. Peering across the bar, he spotted me at the back with a wave, then hurried over to join.
“Mars just texted,” I said.
Clark held up his phone. “Yeah, I saw. Running late.”
We stared at each other, uncertain what to say. Was it too weird, for the two of us to hang out without Mars? “He should be here in about thirty,” I said. “Does that work for you? I know you were working all day.”
Clark nodded, and I noticed that he was wearing a shirt advertising the comic book shop. “I can do that,” he said carefully. “I mean, if you want to.”
I gestured for him to take the stool next to me. “Sure,” I said. “Let me get you a drink.”
The bartender came over to take our orders and shot me a knowing glance as I offered to pay for each drink. Some old punk band was playing on the radio, and as always, the floor felt sticky under my boot.
“You want to shoot some pool?” I asked.
Clark smiled, then nodded quickly. “Sure,” he said. “I watched some videos on YouTube to improve my game.”
I chuckled, then grabbed my beer. “I haven’t seen a natural like you in years,” I said. “You start refining your skills, I’m going to be in trouble.”
Clark’s laugh came quickly, and as we racked the balls and chatted, I eased into our conversation. I still felt like I needed to be tender with him and careful not to make any wrong moves. But the more we chatted, the less I worried that he was going to flinch at my gestures or crumble if I made the wrong joke. It made me wonder what our friendship would have been like, if I had been strong enough those years ago to stand up for him, and to stand up for myself, too.
Clark leaned forward to take a shot, and I noticed that he had stopped sticking his tongue out of the side of his mouth when he aimed. When he sunk another ball, however, I was glad to see he still wiggled his hips with excitement after making one in.
Cute.
He leaned back and studied the pool table, considering his next move, then turned to me instead. “Actually,” he said. “I wondered if I could you ask something, Rip? Since we’re here alone?”
“Sure,” I said. “What’s up?”
Clark frowned, then awkwardly leaned on the pool cue. “I’m not sure how to ask this, exactly, but when we’re hanging out together, do you feel like you’re hanging out with that kid?”
My heart panged. I knew exactly what he meant, and in all honesty, I wanted to ask the same question myself. “I spent a lot of time trying to forget the kid I was,” I said. “I think that makes it easy for me to see you as the person you are now, instead of the person you were then.” I gripped my beer tighter and felt the cool of the glass against my hand.
“But it’s always kind of there,” he said. Our visions caught, and neither of us looked away. “We’re always the same people, even though we’ve changed.”
“We are,” I agreed, although it pained me to admit it. To acknowledge that the bully who had tormented Clark was a past version of me, even if I had tried hard to become someone else.
Clark nodded, deep in thought. “I see the old version of you,” he said. “Only sometimes, when I catch you at the wrong moment. But you know what always makes it go away?”
“What’s that?”
“Your smile,” he said. “The kid I remember never smiled.”
I paused, then chuckled to myself. “So now we’re two adults with smiles,” I said. “Fancy that.”
Clark grinned, and in his eyes, it was like everything was made right.
I guess you do get forgiveness sometimes,I thought.Or, at least, something like it.
Clark took his glasses off, then rubbed his eyes. “We should get back to the game,” he said as he put them back on. “Mars will be here soon.”
I took a drink from beer, then watched him return to the game and puzzle out another angle. Something had just lifted between us, and my whole body felt light in response.
