Hill

She had a dot of strawberry ice cream on her nose, absently staring. I always insisted that she tried mint chocolate chip, as she disclosed it’s the bits of strawberry which she loved the most. A surprisingly rare variant, and thus perhaps unjustly labelled her favorite. But she always insisted it didn’t matter.

We were leaning against the convenience store railing a few meters from the entrance. The owner made a little wooden roof extension from the gutter, with some half-slabbed wooden planks roughly together and a mini-fan wired precariously up one corner. A mix of heat tempered and distilled into our oaken pocket and, though a comfort diminished by what seems to be a hundred degree weather, one was inclined to loft about. Because that’s all you can do, when every single day is Summer.

Our bikes up against the wall, beyond the entrance and well within view. Few cars parked, few cars passing too. The usual arrangement was to bike here from school, as there was a conveniently placed wide concrete path long since plotted and constructed. We both waited for the ice cream to melt a little more before first bites.

There was nothing much to talk about. So we shared silence for five minutes, before first bites. And with the dot of strawberry on her nose, she broke.

“I don’t want to hang out with you anymore.”

I forced a laugh and fulfilled my end of the joke, but when I turned she was stoic. Though maybe that was part of the gag, I thought, so I smiled and said, “Me neither. What’s your reason?”

“Well, I realize that if I keep coming to this convenience store with you, I’m going to die this way. And I don’t want to. It’s not that you’re a bad person, Toby, it’s just I can’t stand to be around you any longer.”

She took another bite. Her eyes kept crystal and stared ahead. It was the last phrase that made me realize she wasn’t joking.

“Are you serious? What do you mean?”

She heaved a sigh, maybe expecting this to be a lot cleaner, but after readjusting her leaned footing she continued.

“Toby, we’ve always been forced to be together. We grew up on the same block, and that’s fine, and we had some good times. But I can’t stand the thought of having to live with you for the rest of my life. It’s not that I dislike you, I just don’t want anything more to do with you.

“I realized that I can go anywhere I want and talk to anyone I want, so why do I talk with you? I couldn’t find an answer. There wasn’t an answer. The more I reflected the more I realized how much I hate listening to you. I hate your mannerisms, the meandering timidness and commitment, I hate the quotes you reference. I hate your daily epiphanies but two weeks and you’re the same. Always mint chocolate chip.

“It feels like you’re dragging me down with you. Into sludge. When was the last time you asked me anything, had anything nice to say? I kept nodding and going along with it because what else am I going to do? But I realized I don’t have to anymore. I don’t want to. If I have to live the rest of my life listening to how hot the weather is, well, I’d rather not. So let’s make this our last ice cream visit.”

I found a vague feeling of relief actually. As something was up the last couple of weeks bothering me. Now there were only a few bites between before we’d never interact again.

“Okay,” I replied, and took another bite.

“That’s it? Okay?” she replied.

“Why would I protest someone wanting nothing to do with me?” I muffled out with a mouth full.

“Well, I just thought you’d put up some sort of resistance,” she confessed.

“It’s hard to say we would’ve hung out a year later anyway. Whether we cut it now or let it drip into a fade a year later, doesn’t matter to me. I’ll keep having my epiphanies, and you can begin your search for an idyllic life.”

“Well, good. I’m glad we’re on the same page,” she said.

“What do you plan to do with your new lease on life?” I asked.

“Oh, it’ll be lovely. For awhile I won’t have to deal with another soul. I’ll walk from school alone, I’ll roam about alone, I’ll read some books too.”

She kicked away a large chunk of mulch that made its way from the flowerbed. Lovely petunias.

“I’ll confess to you, Toby, that I’m not sure if I can stand to deal with anyone anymore. Even my books sometimes. I can’t even stand to deal with myself half the time. I stare at my mirror and fight impulses to shave my head, my eyebrows. To see what’s beneath my skin and skull. To experience anything different other than roads and yelling downstairs. It’s like I’m getting a head start on an alcoholism — that I want to ruin myself into something unrecognizable.”

A woman laughed loudly with her call on speaker phone as she exited the store and hopped into her F-350. There was a little curdling along her waists with some uncomfortably tight yoga pants. With its ignition we waited for the motor noise to fade away.

“I mean, don’t you think you already achieved that?” I suggested. “I don’t recognize you at all compared to the day we met.”

“I don’t even want to look the same,” she added.

“You don’t. To me it looks like you’ve already experienced a thousand lifetimes.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I’d say you’re ruined but there was nothing to ruin.”

“Look, don’t get mad about it, I mean, I think I’m ruined too in some ways. We’re ruined in the same ways.”

She gave a side glance and took a final bite of her cone. I followed suit.

“Well, let’s complete our ice cream visit. Typically we walk our bikes to Gallagher Avenue and part. Isn’t it exciting?”

I pushed away from the rail and affirmed, “I mean, I guess so. Why not?”

Passing by the store doors so I took in the brush of A/C before fending once more with the outside furnace. We usually lay our bikes on top of one another, so I had to wrestle mine out from the intertwined handlebars.

The walk can be trying, depending how much overcast and whether we got some mufflers passing. For the most part it’s road and meadow for a few blocks. Sometimes you could see some power lines along the horizon. But I was more concentrated on fighting an urge to throw my bike into the road.

“What do you mean we’re ruined in the same ways?” she asked, trailing slightly behind me. The sidewalk wasn’t large enough to walk side by side.

“Well, I mean, you’re right about the whole epiphany thing. I’m not even mad about it. But at least it’s a protest in some ways. I’m trying something, vaguely. Trying to be anything.”

“But you end up being nothing?”

A dogwalker kept hushing their Bichon from barking at us. Because it probably never interacts with anyone.

“Sometimes I think it’s better to be nothing, because you can’t lose anything more. But it’s hard to be nothing when you have everything read and connected.”

“I’m not sure how this relates to us both being ruined,” she said.

“Well, I mean, it’s not like I wanted to be this way. I don’t want to debate about things, I don’t want to have epiphanies, I don’t even want to try. How the hell can I try when everywhere I look I want to demolish? There’s no beauty, nothing to protect. And you’re all sick now. I’m sick too.

“The point is, your mind is a waste field. So is mine. God knows how much we’ve seen and pictures or whatever else on any feed, or state funded cartoons. It’s a dumpster fire for everyone, no? You make fun of me reading Schopenhauer but what’s your answer? You’re just going to keep destroying yourself while vaguely protesting, and it pushes me, because I want to destroy everything too. Because what else am I to do?”

“How could anyone spend a lifetime with anyone else in this world? Not because everyone else is bad, but because everyone can’t stand themselves. If you can’t stand your own self, how in the world is anyone else going to deal with it? After the first year it’s over. Do you think you’ll somehow find a selfless magician? You know better.”

She walked behind me in silence for a few minutes. “I’m not sure,” she finally replied, right as we reached Gallagher Avenue. We stared ahead at all the cards parked on the roadside. Smushed together duplexes.

“Well, this is it. I hope you have a nice life,” I said.

“You too. Take care,” she followed. We parted.

While I was walking away so I heard her from across the street.

“Hey Toby, do you want to go garbage lid sledding down the hill tomorrow?”

When I turned around she was leaning against the light pole with a characteristic blank face.

“Sure,” I replied, “See you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

She smiled.