She felt his presence as soon as he entered the bar, even though her back was turned. She looked up to see him walk past her and around the corner, coming out the other side and finally spotting her.
He went straight in for the hug, and they stayed for a long time. The soap that he used hit her nostrils with eerie familiarity, and she felt a pang in her chest. She had missed that smell. The hug was comforting, but it no longer felt like home. This was the first time they had seen each other in a month.
They got their signature drinks and took a seat in the bar that smelled like gas (acetone from the painting going on upstairs) and had tiny gnats flying around them. It was hardly an ideal place for their talk, but it was better than the danger of her apartment.
After some friendly chit-chat about his roommate being a jerk and him being tricked into a final disastrous date with X, they sat down with their drinks and got down to the meat of everything ending between them.
He apologized again for being a jerk, and the "second worst friend" she'd ever had. She took a deep breath, accepted his apology, and decided to broach the part she was having a hard time with.
She explained how hurt she was by the fact that he had never brought up this "spark" before, the thing that propelled him to be in a relationship. Why had he agreed to the pact if he knew it wasn't ever going to go anywhere? He answered he was shit at timing. She told him that was bullshit and she needed a better answer. He had more of his signature beverage before answering. She pointed out every time they had a fight and she told him to just tell her that he never felt anything for her, and he always refused. He just responded, again, that he was terrible with timing. He always felt backed against a wall when they were fighting, and didn't want to admit anything. With how dirty they both fought, she could understand.
"What do you want with me?" She asked him. "You don't want a relationship, you're not ready. We've both been horrible to each other. What do you want from me?"
"I want our friendship back. We were really, really good friends. I miss that, so much. I want that. I want to not be the second worst thing to ever happen to you." She nodded, the clarity finally coming to the surface. They were, are, good friends. This was how it started, and it was going great until they both screwed it up. He stated that he knew she wouldn't touch him again unless they were in a relationship.
They continued to drink and talk, despite the smell and the flies, and talked like they were just friends again. They joked, they reminisced, opened up. She admitted she was having a hard time moving on, that starting online dating was just to distract herself from him. She strangely felt like deleting her online dating profile, as they were fine now, and she didn't need the extra distraction.
He needed to go to the grocery store for his movie night, and he invited her to a future one. "What about the roommate?" She asked. "Screw her, you are my friend. She can go mope in her room. In fact, it would be kind of funny." It was the answer he should have been giving the whole time. She smiled, glad that they were back.
They joked and moved through the store as they used to, and it was magically if nothing sexual or passionate had ever happened between them. It made her happier than any outcome she could have foreseen. She had her best friend back.
They embraced in the car before she headed out. The smell of his soap hit her once again, but now the pang had evolved into...nostalgia? Distant longing? It felt different that a couple of hours before. Her deodorant got on his shirt, and they both laughed and she attempted to brush it off. "Stop! Stop slapping my man boob!" He exclaimed as they both smiled at each other, without a hint of romance or sexual tension.
The reset button had been hit once again.
