About the boy I loved...that long year ago...

I saw him today.

The encounter was entirely by mistake, as are most encounters.

I was going into cafeteria because I wanted to buy a Naked juice. I had spent the better part of half an hour watching a girl in front of me in speech drinking one enjoying it more then a juice should ever be enjoyed, and I dedicated myself to buying one by the time I was walking out of the door.

I got to the cafeteria, however, I was not nearly close enough for the automatic doors to have acknowledged my presence, but they opened anyway, not due to me, due to Alex.

I was greeted with Alex, standing, head thrown back, yawning like he had just been kicked out of a bar after last call or, a child that had been forced out of his bed at an unforgivably early hour.

I giggle wholeheartedly, and he does not so much snap back into reality as he does stumble awkwardly. I wave, waiting for the situation to grasp a firm footing in his head before speaking.

We exchange greetings, and his phone rings. For the time he talks (to his mother, grant it) I debate whether or not to simply leave, but as soon as he's on he's off and accompanying me back into the cafeteria that he was just in the process of exiting before I interfered.

I voice my want to him as I wander along the fridges, he, in turn, takes the other row of fridge's on the other side of the room.

I quest, uselessly, as I was quickly forced to come to the realization that the Naked juice had been brought from home by the girl, seeing as Moorpark College did not sell Naked juice. Not undone, and desperate for something to quell my thirst, or perhaps just force of habit, I grabbed a cold coffee.

I take a quick seat, and much to my surprise, he sits down with me.

We talk for a bit, of things that old friends talk about, we asked what the other has been up to, and very quickly come to realize that we have terribly boring lives, as we only manage to fill up about ten minutes with sound before an awkward silence envelops us.

I question as to what happened to his old hat. I was so used to that damndable thing that for months after he broke my heart anytime I would see the hat on anyone before their face or body my guts would twist violently around themselves.

He told me a dog had eaten it. I told him it was about damn time.

Whether out of nervousness or tendency I finished my coffee in all of seven minutes, my stomach was starting to hurt and my fingers were griping and ungriping anything they got themselves on.

He confessed to have been carrying around the bell I had given him with the full intent of returning it; I refused to accept it, with an inappropriately perverse smile on my face.

Come 9:30 found us walking to the library together. We came across Guy, who mocked me for quitting my job with him at Claim Jumpers after only two weeks.

I make a comment about how the poor boys name is Guy, and he shares my pity and curiosity as to why a parent would ever chose to name their child 'Guy'.

We come into the library, he motions subconsciously the direction he needs to go with his body, and I, bravely, tell him my goodbyes.

Whether or not he had wanted me to follow him I will never know, but rather then taking a chance, I see myself off with a kind goodbye in his direction before making my way to the back of the library and falling heavily into one of the large padded couch chairs.

All in all, it was a good day, one I hope to soon forget.