Turmoil in Orlando

No I don’t believe it. What would Ramone be doing in front of my job in Orlando? Oh shoot, he looked at me. What do I do? Smile? Wave? Stupid. What if he doesn’t remember you? Or worse, what is he does?

“What the heck, Bash?” Ramone was yelling at me even though I was the one who just got hit with a football. I was distracted. What was I looking at? “Get your head in the game, the chip is this weekend. Prom can wait.”

That’s it. I was looking at the prom banner going up. I didn’t have a date yet and it was weighing me down. “Man shut up, ain't nobody worried about some dumb prom. Go long.”

“Sure. See the one in the pink shorts? That’s all me.”

“They’re all in pink shorts.” See, Jada, his new fling was on the cheerleading team. Fling is a nice way of putting it. He didn’t see her the way I did, couldn’t treat her the way I did. She and I never put a label on it so it wasn’t cheating, really, it was an agreement we made. Harmless. How were we to know it could cost Ramone everything? “I said go long,” I shooed him away and  blew Jada a kiss. He wasn’t supposed to see.

“Man, what the f--” That was the last thing he said before getting by a truck. He didn’t make it to the championship game. Or to prom. Last time I checked, he was still Philly. I ghosted Jada at prom, graduated and never looked back. How do I bring myself to speak to him now? My best friend who I placed in a wheelchair. I visited him once in the hospital, didn’t even go into his room. I couldn’t see him like that. I turned to leave but I guess he could feel the deceit in the air. He yelled after me, “Bash? Bash. SEBASTIAN!”

“What man? What do you want from me? “

“Chill man. It’s me Ramone. Don’t you recognize me?”

“Oh hey.” Of course, How could I ever forget?