27) 'Disbanded Squads' And Other Problems That Would Probably Be Resolved Within A Single Chapter In A Comic Book
Okay, so Benjamin had apparently really messed up this time. He thought he'd be doing better if he stopped running away, but that was clearly not enough. This would be the time where he'd turn to his friends to ask for help.
One look around was all it took to realize that, no, it was lost. All was lost. Somewhere in the background, Lydia got swallowed by an elder dragon. He didn't even have the balls to go and pick Thijmen up; the guy seemed to be having the time of his life talking to The Cool Kids while the non-cool kids were left alone. By now even the most unassuming people had noticed the squad's recent breakup, but it passed by as a remark. If life were to be a newspaper, they'd be that Fun Fact hidden somewhere between the sports pages, in a corner, with letters so tiny ants would have to squint to read it.
In a nutshell: he was alone. So was the rest of the squad. Even Pi.
What a world, what a world.
He walked out of the school humming Aerith's theme under his breath, to make the mood more melancholic. As this happened, someone bumped against him. Benjamin said, because this was the best way to initiate conversation: "Bwargh!"
"Oh, sorry."
But when he was about to apologize, he froze. Messiah froze, too.
His character file didn't include scowling, though. He just looked away awkwardly and left. Benjamin stared at him awkwardly. Messiah awkwardly stopped walking, turned around, opened his mouth as though he were about to say something and ultimately desisted on it. It was depressing (and awkward), and ended with Benjamin watching him disappear, ever-so-slowly, into the horizon.
"Damn," he said, because the situation was dire enough to allow it.
In the words of Thiccman de Bruin: he was lame.
Why was Thijmen taking so long? Why was the driver taking so long? There was only so much time one could cover with internal monologue.
What if he walked home instead? Sure, it'd probably take about an hour, but at least he'd be able to avoid Thijmen and perhaps contemplate his life choices for a little longer. He could try to come up with a way to fix his relationship with his boyfriend and his friends or find out the reason why it had all gone downhill in the first place.
But by the time he'd seriously considered performing the rare act of walking home, the driver showed up. He parked the car behind a bunch of cars that came to pick up other rich, pretentious kids, who tripped over the redhead on their way to their ride because they were too busy looking at their iPhone X. When Ben finally managed to get to the car and open the door, he saw Thijmen coming up, and froze.
This was it. Make amends or make it even worse.
In a moment of clarity, a scene from a movie came to him.
He held the door open for Thijmen.
He stared at him for a moment.
"The car is getting cold." He walked around and got in on the other side.
With his heart on the ground in a million pieces, Benjamin got in too. Isaac, the driver cleared his throat, adding to tension. Was he aware of what was going on? They say taxi drivers always know what's going on, but did that apply to personal drivers who only drove two teenage boys to and from school too? Then again, Isaac also brought his parents everywhere, and who knows what they talked about when their son wasn't around.
But Isaac never said anything, so the drive was silent. Benjamin still didn't know if he was actually mute or if he just really hated interacting with other humans.
So there was still time to contemplate after all. Yet, when it came down to it, Benjamin's brain didn't seem to want to cooperate. The only thing it could think of was the fact that Thijmen was mad at him and the squad was mad at each other and Benjamin was mad at the universe.
Before he knew it, they'd arrived at the house, and Thijmen threw open the door. Benjamin acted on pure instinct as he slipped out of the car and trudged after him. He had to fix it. He had to fix it. He had to fix it.
"Thijermenrjff," he blurted out.
Without turning around, Thijmen replied, "I thought I said I didn't want to—"
"Please."
His shoulders drooped down as he let out a deep sigh.
"Pretty please?"
"Fine."
His brain better come up with something absolutely spectacular right about now. "Uh, let's go to my room so we can talk in private." And so he had more time to think of what to say.
Ha.
If only.
Thijmen sat down on his bed, folded his hands in his lap, and gazed up at him expectantly. Benjamin shifted from side to side awkwardly until he gave up and sat next to Thijmen, too. The Dutch had stolen his pillows again.
He didn't know what to say. At all. If he thought about it, he was pretty sure he'd never actually had to apologize—not one of those long, emotive, elaborated ones anyway. Just the classic innocent look when he broke a dish or forgot to erase his browser history. He hugged a pillow to his chest and buried his face into it.
He figured he might as well start with, "I'm sorry."
Now he got that out of the way at least. Thijmen didn't reply though, so he had to try harder.
"I... I don't really know how to do this whole thing."
"What?"
"You know. Being together. I keep messing up. But I don't like it when we're... not together. So I'm sorry, but I don't really know what exactly I'm saying sorry for. I guess."
"That has to be the worst apology in all of human history."
Benjamin didn't know what to say to that. He shifted around a little more and stared at the floor, because Thijmen's face was currently a danger zone. One look and he'd be burned alive, surely.
Should he say more? Or had he said too much already?
"What I'm trying to say is... when we are together, I feel like... things are good. And when you are sad like this, things are not good. And that makes me sad. But I don't know how to make you unsad, and that makes me even sadder."
"Is sadder even a word?"
He looked up at Thijmen. "I think so."
"You're the native speaker."
"What is sad in Dutch?"
"Verdrietig."
"Never mind. That's too hard. The point is, stop being sad, Thijmen!"
Thijmen merely stared at him for a few minutes, but he'd said everything he wanted to say, so he just waited. Waited for Thijmen to accept his apology or whatever. More like the latter. It couldn't really be considered an apology. Thijmen said so himself.
"Can I tell you why I'm sad, Ben?"
He nodded.
"I didn't want to sell drugs." He ran a hand through his hair—it had gotten so much longer ever since they met for the first time in the principal's office. To think Benjamin absolutely detested the Dutch boy back then...
"You didn't?"
"I hated it. I was actually kind of tricked into doing it. Somebody told me they got me a job and I didn't know what kind until it was too late."
"Oh, that's not nice of them."
"No, not really. Anyway, I'm sad because you thought that that part of my life is a part of me. You read that file and figured I was in fact the criminal they told you I was."
"But you did do—"
"Don't say it. I know. Obviously, I did what I did. But all that talk of me having a knife and all that crap—I don't like it."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Well, now you know. The only good thing that came out of my parents putting me here is that I met you. When you're not being an insufferable little shit, that is."
"Hey!"
"What, hey? I accept your apology."
He suddenly held out his hand and Benjamin stared at it in confusion.
"We do this thing in the Netherlands after a fight," he explained. "It's kinda like 'no hard feelings', but we say 'put sand over it' and shake hands. Wanna put sand over it, Benji?"
Instead, Benjamin hugged him.
He seemed surprised for a moment, but then let out a low chuckle that made Ben vibrate, and he fiercely hugged him back.
"From now on, you should just tell me when I say something stupid," Ben murmured against his shoulder.
"Okay, I will."
"Are you a dragon?"
"Benjamin, for shit's—"
"I know I know I'm sorry I just had to ask I'm sorry but you still didn't answer."
Thijmen sighed.