Best Friends

- Joelle -

It was a warm afternoon in May, and the sun bathed the campus in its golden light. The fragrance of geraniums planted all around filled the air, pleasing my senses. As I sat on a wooden bench with Jason, the only sounds that reached my ears were the melodious chirping of birds and the occasional footsteps of passing students. Jason leaned against the backrest while I lay with my head in his lap, facing the radiant sun, and my legs were comfortably bent, resting on the bench. His hands gently ran through my hair, creating a soothing sensation. Despite the impending exams, I had never felt so relaxed. Yet, there was a nagging thought in the back of my mind—when did we become so close?

To any casual observer, we appeared like any other young couple on campus, the quintessential college sweethearts filled with dreams and aspirations. But the truth was that there was nothing romantic between us. We had shared a few classes during our time at Junior College, but we never really spoke or interacted. However, fate had a different plan for us. On the first day of Medical school, Jason happened to sit next to me and realized he had forgotten his pen. In a moment of disorganization, he asked if I could lend him one. I handed him a magenta pen, which, to my surprise, he never returned. From that day forward, we became inseparable. We sat together in class, shared notes, and collaborated on group assignments. Jason was there to comfort me when I felt overwhelmed, like the time I vomited at the sight of my first abdominal surgery. And I reciprocated when he was confined to his home for two weeks with chickenpox. We talked every day—shared gossip, discussed schoolwork. He, on the otherhand entertained me with stories of his attempts to teach his cat tricks, despite my concerns for the poor feline.

During those two weeks, I realized how much Jason had come to mean to me and how deeply I missed his presence when he wasn't around. The classroom felt empty without him, and I felt adrift. Prior to starting medical school, I had never struggled to enjoy my own company. In fact, I often spent my time alone in the library or taking solitary walks around campus. But this time was different. It was as if I had become dependent on his companionship. I missed our morning coffee at the university canteen, his witty and sometimes irritating remarks about anything and everything, and seeing him jotting down notes with my magenta pen.

When he returned after those two weeks, the first thing he did was embrace me tightly. His strength and broad physique made me feel fragile and small, but surprisingly comfortable in his arms. He ruffled my hair, affectionately resembling an older brother's gesture towards a younger sibling, and told me he had missed me. I wasn't sure how to interpret it at the time, so I didn't dwell on it too much. I was just grateful to have him back and hoped he wouldn't be absent again anytime soon.

From that point on, my feelings for him underwent a subtle shift. To be honest, I couldn't exactly pinpoint or define my emotions. I loved him, but I wasn't romantically in love with him, if that makes any sense. I worried about him whenever he did something reckless, missed him when he wasn't around, but I never daydreamed about being in a relationship with him, sharing intimate moments, or even kissing him. We were starkly different individuals. Jason was the loudest, most outgoing person on campus—the life of every party, known by everyone. On the other hand, I had never attended a campus party until he dragged me to one.

In all honesty, I felt completely out of place, and it was only with the help of a Gin and Tonic that the night became bearable.Fast forward to the present moment, with my head nestled in his lap, enjoying his gentle touch on my hair.

"What's on your mind, Bugs?" he asked playfully, interrupting my train of thought.

Bugs was the nickname he had bestowed upon me during our first year of Med school, four years ago. It originated when I stopped to rescue a snail crossing our path, relocating it to a nearby field. When he inquired about my action, I explained that I was saving its life, preventing it from being stepped on and crushed. He jokingly remarked that I had probably led it to certain death since the field was home to a colony of hedgehogs who considered snails a delicacy. Eye-rolling, I hoped he was just making it up. For the next week, he called me "Bug savior slash killer," but eventually settled on Bugs as a shorter and catchier nickname. It stuck, and whenever we were alone, he referred to me as Bugs. Strangely, he never used it in the presence of others.

"Nothing much, just lost in thought," I replied, not wanting to share the details of my musings. I confided almost everything in him, but my thoughts and feelings regarding him were off-limits for discussion.

"About what?" he probed, refusing to let the subject drop.

"Finals," I lied, aware of his disbelief. I shrugged, and he decided not to push further. Trying to redirect the conversation and distract myself, I asked, "And what about you? You seem quiet as well." He glanced at me, then bluntly stated, "I'm thinking about how beautiful you are and searching for the right words to ask you to spend the rest of your life with me." His words startled me, causing me to sit up abruptly, as if doused in cold water. But then he burst into laughter. "Relax, Bugs! I'm just messing with you. The expression on your face was priceless. I wish I had recorded it," he said, smirking mischievously. Pranking and teasing people were his favorite pastimes, and he particularly enjoyed targeting me. However, more often than not, he failed to surprise me. I had spent so much time with him, learning his ways, that I usually anticipated his pranks. Not today, though. Lost in my thoughts, I had become too distracted to see this one coming. In response, I mustered all my strength and playfully punched his upper arm. "Ouch! That hurt," he exclaimed, rubbing the spot where I had struck him. Then, he proceeded to tickle me relentlessly, causing me to collapse on the floor, consumed by uncontrollable laughter.