[i][i]It was sometime in the months intervening high school and Aaron’s arrival to State University.

Back then, those summers were lined with days on the beach, time spent between various bars and impromptu road trips to Nevada, Arizona, and beyond. 

Aaron and Rob had been very good friends at the time, but Rob was well-aware of what was to come. Going off to college, especially the one several hours away that Aaron had chosen, was certainly going to put a dagger in their relationship. Some would argue that this would be a sad event, but Rob never looked at things that way. He was simply happy to have a friend around, and was certainly not going to make him feel bad or vilify him for chasing his own dreams. 

There was a late-summer evening between the two of them. After the afternoon had faded to twilight, the lesser-known beach they had claimed emptied out until it was simply barren. This far from civilization, the sounds surrounding the two were simply the call of the birds and the gentle crashes of the waves. 

“I suppose this is it,” Aaron had said, passing the joint along to Rob and looking out into the sky. “Orientation is tomorrow.”

“When do you head out?” Rob asked. 

“Probably seven tomorrow morning,” Aaron said flat, then broke into a smile. “Shit, that’s gonna hurt so much.” 

Rob laughed alongside him. “Get used to that shit, man. Lecture classes at eight isn’t going to be easy.”

“I know, man,” Aaron said. But then the two went silent, and for a moment, the beach was filled with unspoken tension. 

Then:

“You think we’ll ever be like this again?”

“How do you mean?” Rob asked.

“Without worrying about anything. No jobs, no responsibilities. Just weed bummed off of our friends, sitting on a beach. Not worrying.”

Rob thought for a moment. “I guess not,” he sighed. “Although it’s not that bad of a thing. I wouldn’t want to do nothing my whole life. Would you?”

Aaron thought, digging his hands into the damp sand beneath them. “I guess I wouldn’t mind it, actually. With friends around, maybe. I’d have to work some shit job to pay bills, but I wouldn’t really consider it much of a responsibility. But…yeah. I’d be pretty content with that.”

“I couldn’t be.” 

“Really?” Aaron asked. His tone implied he wasn’t necessarily surprised by Rob’s response, but possibly curious as to his intentions.

“I could never do that,” Rob continued. “I swear to God, if I’m doing nothing when I’m 25 or 30, I’ll just blow my brains out and be done with it. No. I want to make something of myself. Be something.”

“And what is that?” Aaron asked.

“I don’t know,” Rob admitted. “Something I’m good at. I want to take that and make something of it. Whatever the hell that it. I want to do something that actually matters. And not to other people. To me.”

“You know,” Aaron started, “that makes me wonder why you aren’t in college in the first place.”

“It’s not for me,” Rob said simply. “Either they’d never teach what I want, or they’d teach it too slow. Then, I’d be left with the mountain of debt holding me down. It’s never worth it. You don’t hire someone because of a piece of paper. You hire them because they’re fucking good at what they do.”

“Man,” Aaron laughed, “I wish it were that way.”

“If you go to a place that turns you down because you don’t have a degree, and hires someone worse than you to do the same job cause he has one, then fuck that job. It’s not worth it.”

But soon, the subject changed to other matters, and Rob’s passionite pleas against “the man” and all it’s shortcomings were faded away like the grains of sand, picked up by the waves and cast out into the dark pacific.[/i]
[/i]
…


And Rob thought of this conversation as he looked to Aaron, now a half-decade later. 

His body was more worn, and his beard thicker and fuller. His haircut more modern and dignified than his past, long locks, but his eyes were still the same. He was still the man of pragmatism. Get the degree, get the job. 

Was Rob the same man? He used to be so much more passionate. He would never keep things or people in his life that didn’t matter, but what and who did matter, he stuck with. Because, deep down, what mattered was himself, and those who helped him or served him were always worth keeping around.

Rob was particular, forward, distant, and driven. Rob was unconcerned with others feelings and others rules. Rob marched on alone to what he wanted.

What was he now? 

Maybe he didn’t know what he was, but he did know where.

Now, he was sitting in a diner on the far reaches of an already smaller city. Shitty food lay on his plate, and pools of grease gathered in undesirable chasms. A black coffee sat to his right. Aaron sat to his front, eating his own food. And outside, the night had long since come. 

He had just told Aaron the story of In Bloom. Every last excruciating detail, from long lights tripping on acid to cool evenings spent on rooftops. From Adrianna to Anna, to Jane and to Zoe. His confused state, his time in smoky buses and his time in abandoned shelters. He laid it all out to Aaron over hours, and it was time for his old friend’s response. 

But just before he did, Rob thought of the beach. And he couldn’t help but laugh at what a past Rob thought of the world. 

If only he could see him now. 

“Well,” Aaron began, “I’m just going to tell you the story you told me, and you tell me where you fucked up, alright? Who knows? Maybe it’ll help.”

Rob looked down for a moment. “Alright.”

“A boy and a girl are friends,” Aaron spoke. “Friends for years. They travel the country with their band, and after a night, the boy realizes that he had grown far fonder of the girl than he had thought before. And the boy has never felt this way before. He fears her reaction. He fears ruining what they had, or whether or not it’s worth it. The boy is afraid. But he tells her.”

Aaron takes in a deep breath.

“The girl tells the boy she’s scared too. The girl doesn’t think she’s good enough for the boy. The girl thinks she’s too bad for the good boy. But she decides to go for it, and the two get together. But the twist is, the girl was wrong. The girl changes herself for the boy, but the boy doesn’t change for the girl. The boy is afraid. The boy is scared of ruining what they have. The boy tells the girl he only wants what is physical, but the boy doesn’t even want that. He’s just afraid.”

Rob thought, but then laughed. “The boy is a dick.”

“And why is that?” Aaron asked.

“Because the boy never really told the girl how he felt,” Rob said, but his thoughts switched from the third person to the first. “I always hinted at it, but I never told her what I was thinking. What I wanted. What I was afraid of.”

“You said it,” Aaron said, “not me.”

“I guess,” Rob thought aloud, “I thought it was so much more complicated than that.” 

“It’s never all that complicated,” Aaron said. “It’s just that, people can only react to what you give them.”

Rob thought about Aaron’s words, long after their conversation had ended and he was left in the hotel bar once more, sipping on a beer and watching the other patrons around him.

Maybe he hadn’t changed. Maybe he had just lost sight of what had mattered to him.

It really was so much simpler than he had ever made things out to be. 

“Surprised to see you here,” a familiar voice came out behind Rob, he turned around.

Zoe was standing there with vacant eyes.

“I’d say the same thing,” Rob shot back. “What happened to the van?”

Zoe perched herself on the bar stool next to Rob. “Broke down. We’d get it repaired, but since we might be going on the European tour with you, our manager figured we’d just stay in some hotels until we figure it out.”

“Honestly,” Rob started, “I didn’t really think I’d ever see you again.”

“I’m not that kind of person,” Zoe said, flat. “If we’re going to be on the road together, the least we could do is make things amicable. I wouldn’t ever leave someone on bad terms. It causes bad shit to happen.”

“Like Anna,” Rob said, before downing some of his drink.

“Like Anna,” Zoe repeated after him. “So…Jane?”

“I don’t know,” Rob answered honestly, “but even if I did, I don’t know if I’d even say.”

“Good boy,” Zoe smiled. “You’re learning.” She stood herself up, and put a hand on Rob’s shoulder. “You’re not a bad guy, Rob. Really. I’m not going to hold it against you that you weren’t into me. But don’t hold it against Jane that she’s into you.”

And with that, she walked off, leaving Rob to dwell on what exactly just happened.