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Bobby had somehow kept it together in the last few weeks of school. Honestly, he was just thankful college required you to apply so early on because it was really the last thing on his mind. Maybe he was just in denial. Sure, he was excited but he felt bad about leaving Johnny after everything that had gone down.
Graduation had been awkward to the extreme. Jimmy and Tommy were awkward enough to be around. They’d still sat with each other at lunch, still been on the soccer team, but that was really just out of habit. Outside of school, and besides graduation, he hadn’t seen Jimmy and Tommy and honestly wasn’t sure if he’d see them again afterwards. He’d exchanged what would soon be his knew address with Jimmy but he wasn’t sure if he’d ever write.
The worst part of graduation had been Dutch though. Everyone had been able to tell he wasn’t part of the group. Everyone had heard about what happened at the All-Valley Tournament one way or another. The teachers knew, their fellow students. No one understood how to interact with them and Bobby hadn’t known what to say in return. Whereas at home his parents had been smothering him with kindness, trying to show how sorry they were and clearly wishing they’d been there, those at school just avoided him.
Dutch had quit the soccer team immediately, not that it had mattered much with how close graduation had been coming. But he’d still been in most of their classes. Bobby hadn’t been able to keep from staring at the back of his head in History. He’d glance from Johnny on his right, who often times slept through History with his book propped up in front of him, and then back to Dutch ahead. All he could think about was how Dutch hadn’t raised a hand to help Johnny, not even a word! He didn’t even have Jimmy’s excuse of just being frozen in shock. He’d consciously chosen to turn away, to look away and still not help as Bobby had gotten his rib broken and Tommy had gotten hit too.
Sure, Dutch had always loved teasing them and messing with them. He was always the first to support the most violent and irresponsible of plans, but how? How had he stared at them all on the ground in shock and pain and then chose to walk away?
Johnny had refused to approach him on the subject, had actively asked Bobby not to cause anything either, but Bobby hadn’t been able to stay silent for long.
In English, the only class where it was just him and Dutch out of their original gang, Bobby had finally chosen to not hold back. He’d cornered Dutch before he could leave at the bell, a bad move in retrospect but he’d needed to move fast before Dutch could disappear in the crowd.
“Screw off Bobby.”
“No!”
Bobby could still remember how the class had frozen. It made since. The typically all smiles, mild-mannered Bobby had been shouting in class. Of course they had stared and for once, Bobby hadn’t cared.
“Why didn’t you help!? Why?”
“I don’t have to tell you!”
“I thought you were our friend—”
And then Dutch had shoved him. “Just fucking move!”
Bobby had shoved back. “No!”
Then Dutch had punched him and Bobby had responded in turn. They’d knocked over desks and chairs, Bobby managing to trip him up and slam Dutch into a bookshelf too. It was chaos and not long afterwards, Bobby found himself in the principal’s office for the first time in ages. Certainly the first time for an on-school incident. Considering they’d soon be out of there anyways and school was almost done and bearing in mind their “circumstances” as the principal put it, Bobby had been let out pretty quickly and his parents not called, the same thing happening to Dutch. Bobby remembered walking out, knuckles bruised and back hurting from when Dutch had slammed him into the teacher’s desk. Johnny had been waiting, hands shoved in his pocket and eyes cast downwards.
“I told you not to do that,” he’d said. The words had been angry, yet still soft. Maybe it had been because his throat was still sore. Maybe there had been another reason.
Either way, Bobby hadn’t responded. Not at first. All he could think about was how Johnny had wanted to continue beating Daniel until he was flat on the ground. Bobby still thought that had been wrong, that they’d gone too far, but Bobby also thought he could better understand where that anger came from. Bobby had wanted to keep hitting Dutch until there was nothing left to hit.
“He’s the coward for leaving,” Bobby had finally said, looking up.
Johnny hadn’t even tried to mask the fact he clearly didn’t believe Bobby. “Yeah, sure.”
After that, Bobby didn’t see Dutch in class again. He’d still shown up at graduation though and that had been the most awkward. Bobby’s own anger had simmered down since then and they’d just stood there, having accidently bumped into each other as the caps and gowns had run about. They could have kept walking, could have avoided eye contact, but then they’d froze instead, just staring at each other with silent stubbornness.
“You should have fought harder,” Dutch had eventually said.
“Kreese should have been a better teacher.”
“Yeah…maybe so.”
And then Dutch had pushed past him and Bobby hadn’t known what to think of that. He hadn’t wanted to end things there. Despite everything, Dutch had still been his first real friend. He’d turned around, but Dutch had already disappeared in a sea of black robes.
Maybe that was why he was here now. It wasn’t like the first place he’d met Dutch, but it was still important.
Johnny sat on his right as they watched the people on the boardwalk from the vantage point of the Ferris wheel. Thanks to constantly sneaking in out of his room and his friends, along with Dutch’s forced torments like forcing him onto the Ferris wheel, Bobby had overcome his fear of heights. At least for the most part. He was still never getting on an airplane.
But for now, he focused on the people below and Johnny at his side. He’d already mentioned Dutch’s name. He’d mentioned what had happened a couple of days ago at graduation. Johnny hadn’t responded, hadn’t tried to add anything more. Bobby didn’t know if he appreciated the silence or wished Johnny would just respond. He tried something else.
“You can write me whenever you want,” Bobby reminded him. He’d already given him what would soon be his new address.
Johnny just hummed in acknowledgement.
“And you could visit me. Take like a road trip in your year off before you go to college, right?”
“Hmm.”
“Maybe you’ll even come to Berkley. We could end up being roommates. Wouldn’t that be cool?”
Another hum.
Bobby resisted the urge to groan, to be too negative. He just wanted some form of response, anything. He ran a hand through his hair and tried again. “Listen we’ll—”
“Of course we’ll keep in touch,” Johnny interrupted, finally flashing a smile Bobby’s way. “What classes have you got lined up? Boring shit right? Like more English and Math?”
“Well…yeah but I’m also taking a basic design class too,” Bobby admitted. He was hesitant, but the smile was still there, the curiosity in Johnny’s eyes. His throat had long since healed and there was no breaking in his voice.
“What’s that about?”
Bobby talked about his classes, about the campus and what he’d seen of it when he’d visited a few months ago with his parents. They kept on like that as the Ferris wheel finally completed its rotation and they were on the ground again.
Walking down the boardwalk and back to their bikes, Bobby finally stopped his rambling to repeat “And you are going to write, yeah?”
“God, how many times are you going to ask that?” groaned Johnny.
“I just want to—”
“Yes, I’m going to write you!” laughed Johnny. He slung an arm around Bobby and grinned. “Why wouldn’t I? I’ll miss the hell out of you.”
“Oh, I already knew that,” Bobby chuckled with his own smile. He looked at Johnny, at his smirk and shining eyes and…Bobby believed he would.
They grabbed some burgers and fries, snacking out on the beach as the sun set around them, and then Bobby said goodbye as he left for college the next day.
He believed Johnny would write to him but instead Jimmy did, the first letter filled with apologies and well wishes. Bobby found himself swept up in college, in trying to stay afloat and keep his grades up and keep the drinking to a minimum. But Jimmy kept writing and it was easy to respond to the letters.
But Johnny…
The first month passed and he didn’t write. Weeks after that passed and he still didn’t. Bobby didn’t understand why and eventually, it got to the point where he didn’t bother trying to write to Johnny either. He had to have moved already, right? And if he sent a letter to his home then Sid would probably just throw it in the trash or put return to sender on it.
Despite the disappointment, Bobby still waited though, still hoped. More days, more weeks and months passed, a full year. One night Bobby thought about the last time he’d seen Johnny, thought of his smile and how he’d promised that he would write. Bobby though about how he had believed him.
That was the last conscious thought Bobby had of Johnny in a long time, up until he was already out of college and in a job and happened to glance through the obituaries of the Sunday paper.