If We Never Met - Coco, Ravi, Prius

“Coco! Don’t forget your umbrella.”

“It’s sunny outside.”

“Take it anyways.”

“...Fine.”

My smile faded away as my front door creaked to a close. I was blessed with caring parents, but still...

Bright grays and greens reflected the warm blanket of sun that rested over my neighbourhood. Few clouds floated in the sky, and children were playing basketball in nearby driveways. Despite the weatherman’s warnings, it hardly seemed like a day for rain. I felt like a fool for running through the streets with an umbrella in hand.

Kata. Kata. Kata.

Smooth pavement graced the soles of my running shoes. When I first started, these didn’t matter so much; I ran anywhere I wanted, wearing whatever I wanted. It was only when running became a daily occurrence that I paid attention to my gear: thick runners, luxury joggers, and padded soles. They provided a noticeable comfort. For occasional runners, they might be a luxury. For me, they were a necessity.

My brain switched to autopilot. My legs were moving, my back was straight, my lungs became a metronome, and my eyes were fixed ahead. I forged on through the suburbs.

Familiar strangers would smile and wave at me on the sidewalk. Familiar dogs would wag their tails when they saw me, and I would exchange a few words with their owners.

They all looked familiar, but none of them knew me—and maybe that was for the best. Many people who knew me weren’t very nice, so perhaps these waving strangers were nice because they didn’t know me. Or maybe I was confusing causation with correlation.

Step by step by step, I kept running. Breaking through a line of houses, I was greeted by the usual park with the usual green grass, its usual-seeming playground, and the usual-looking children playing inside. This time, I didn’t run laps around the perimeter—instead, I ran right through the field.

I wanted to avoid the children; for no particular reason, they irritated me today. Was I jealous of these grade schoolers frolicking in the sandbox? Perhaps that was the case.

They reminded me of a group of four—three boys, one girl. They would be stuck to each other by the hip and be nearly inseparable on the playground. They would play games together, share the same interests, and not give a damn whether one of them was a girl.

Then, perhaps the girl would dream of a more fruitful life. She wanted to move out of this boring city, with no attractions other than an unusually large mall. She wanted to meet tons of people and have amazing experiences to share with her friends back home.

She would watch some sitcom, or movie, or show with her friends. It would be set in a beautiful city, in the same country as them. Through the screens, the girl would be promised a rose-coloured youth. And maybe her dream would come true—through some coincidence, she would move to that same city.

And that would be the last of her childlike innocence; the last of her naivete. In high school, she would learn about social hierarchies and the art of hanging out with people she didn’t like. Then she would live a productive life with minimal conflict, where even if she wasn’t happy with her situation, at least others liked her enough to not ruin what happiness she still had.

Kata. Kata. Kat. Kat.

A cloud covered the sun’s rays and a unusually cool breeze brought me to my senses. I slowed to a walk and observed my surroundings for the first time in many minutes. It was an unfamiliar suburb with unfamiliar strangers, smiling and waving at me. How far was I from the park?

Before I could run through my memories and estimate a distance, a drop of water landed on my head. I looked up.

...Where did all these clouds come from?

Turning around, I started heading back home. I decided that as punishment, I would walk in the rain without using my umbrella.

What was the punishment for, you might ask?

It was for running. Yes, running.

For running away from team basketball and pursuing a solo sport. For running away from my childhood friends to find a more interesting life. For

I didn’t make tons of friends in the beautiful city, and I didn’t have any experiences to bring back to this boring one. I couldn’t even bring myself to contact my old friends. After all, I would’ve been contacted already if they actually wanted to see me. I didn’t have the heart to reach out to them.

I guess it’s best to wait for a coincidence. Since we’re in the same city again, I might bump into them. Maybe they were conveniently sitting back in the park, waiting for me in the rain. That would be nice to see. It gave me the motivation to walk slightly faster.

Before I even entered the park, my hopes were let down. I could see no one across the vast field. The children were gone, and the familiar strangers seemed to have gone home.

Suddenly, a glimpse of white briefly appeared in the corner of my eye. I whipped my head to see a cardboard box underneath a nearby tree.

Squish. Squish. Squish.

Walking across the soggy grass, I peered into the container. There was a calico kitten shivering inside, peeking back at me with massive medallion-like pupils that reflected my face with a curious green.

I opened my umbrella and reached out to pet its head. Its fur was sleek, and its supple skin stretched backwards with each stroke. It meowed softly in response.

“There there,” I whispered. “It’s alright.”

Rain that previously bombarded my head began trickling down my face. I realized that I was already soaked from the shoulders up. As the water dripped down, I repeated my words of consolation.

Were they for the kitten, or were they for myself? All I knew was that they were for the pitiful creature before me.

“There, there.”

o

Warm, humid air suffocated my already sweating skin. The lights from the party behind me casted an eldritch shadow before me; I stared back at the silhouette of some humanoid with freakishly long legs. It’s been a while since I’ve experienced such a warm night. Maybe it was because my parents usually don’t let me go out at night.

“Ravi! Come back!” One of my friends called.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” I replied.

“Okay...” she pouted.

Drunken laughter poured out through the front doors.

Or at least, I assumed it was drunken laughter. It could have one of the other substances they started taking recently. While I was welcomed into these gatherings, they were always accompanied by some degree of peer pressure. It was uncomfortable, to say the least.

They were friends that loved to hang out. That’s what friends love to do. We would go around the city, eating and playing in what little places there were to eat and play in. Although there wasn’t much entertainment, our primary source of entertainment was simply being with each other. I firmly believe that “friends” who claim they don’t like hanging out, simply don’t like hanging out with you—hence why I haven’t turned down any invites of my own will.

Regrettably.

Yes, there were people who loved dragging me around. Yes, perhaps that is a sign that I am liked. And yes, I want this to continue—to stop, would mean that I have no friends. That would scare me beyond all else. I hated being alone, simply because I’ve seen how fun not being alone can get.

But now, I couldn’t help but wonder: did I make a mistake by investing my time into these people? I thought life would be easier by keeping popular friends, but my choice in companions created conflicts within my values. I don’t want to take drugs, and I’ve been taught all my life to avoid them—from people I love and respect, no less.

How frustrating.

If only I picked a better group of friends...

Better?

I paused my train of thought to question myself. Did I think of my current friends as bad for partying hard? Did I want something better? Better by what standard?

Isn’t this what I wanted, to find people who knew how to have fun and chase highs? To let them pull me into doing the same things they did? Why was I upset? Could there be any version of this setup where I’m not getting dragged out of my comfort zone?

A nostalgic scene flashed across my mind. Suddenly, I remembered.

The reason I became friends with this outgoing group of troublemakers, is because I was close with similar people in the past. Prius, Coco, Via... friends from my childhood who often dragged me into interesting situations. It was the same as now, albeit with a positive, childish kind of innocence. I wonder if that was still possible with people my age.

Other than drugs and drinking, what would we do? Drive around the city? My current friends already did that. Drive out of the city? Now that’s something new. It opens so many possibilities, too...

Like camping. Or hiking, or fishing, or simply going on a day trip. I wonder if they would be into things like that. My parents wouldn’t have any problems with that either.

It was a refreshing thought—the idea of going on wholesome adventures with close friends. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it didn’t even have to be my childhood friends. Why not with the friends I have now?

“Hey guys?” I called over my shoulder. “What do you guys think of a camping trip?”

“Ew, no...” “I need a bed...” “I’m okay with glamping.”

“How about fishing?”

“Maybe...” “What’s so exciting about that?” “Are you drunk?”

“...Nevermind, then.”

“Ra-avii... are you coming in yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Then close the door, will ya? It’s so loud out there!”

“Sorry,” I said, shutting the entrance.

There’s nothing making noise out here...

Was what I thought. Looking up into the light polluted sky, there was a star; a bead of yellow glimmering above. How unusal. It was moving too... a satellite, maybe?

Listening closer, I noticed a faint whirring. It was likely a plane. Was this what my friend heard? She’s usually not this sensitive to sound. I wonder if any of the substances were the reason for this.

My right pocket vibrated. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my phone.

There were no new messages. Was it a phantom vibration?

I browsed through my contacts, wondering if there was anyone willing to embark on outdoor adventures. It was definitely in character for Via and them to agree... if they were the same as I remembered.

...Weird. I have no one’s numbers.

Well, I assumed it was easy enough to stalk them on social media. I could shoot a message or two, and the gang would be back together...

...Would that be okay?

For the quietest one in the group to be taking initiative?

Those three were active people. If they wanted to reach out to me, they would’ve done so already. Who was I to think about dragging them along with me?

I put my phone back in the pocket it belonged and released the biggest sigh of my life. The most I could do right now is wish on that airplane.

o

“Man, it’s finally over,” Honda said.

“Yeah...” I replied. “It’s over for my legs too. I don’t think they’ll ever moving again.”

“Well, we can’t help it. Transferring between two longer flights was cheaper than buying one direct plane ticket. And on top of that, it’s an hour-long drive back to the city.”

“That’s more than enough sitting for the next two months...”

“Want me to roll down the windows?”

“No! That’s horrible for your ears.”

“Fine. I’ll turn on the AC.”

Gazing out the passenger side of my friend’s jeep, I watched the wind blow waves over the vast plains. They were the perfect length to observe—not stagnant, yet not disappearingly fast. Trees in the distance barely moved, which made them boring to admire. Fences by the road became a blur, which made them an impossible sight to capture.

The sky was bright blue, yet it was already eight-fifty. I guess that’s the perks of summer evenings—however, it was not the best case for me, since bright skies weren’t exactly great for sleeping. I wanted to knock out as soon as possible.

Peering over my shoulder, I peeked at our bags in the back seats. Everything was waiting to be unpacked when we arrived home at nine. It felt strange being in a car with just the two of us, after such a rowdy trip. Even though we were together, a hint of loneliness sparked inside me.

“Everyone’s gone after this, huh...” I murmured.

“Yup...” Honda sighed.

“What were you doing in university again?”

“General sciences. What about you?”

“Mechanics.”

I glanced at Honda. While his eyes were fixed on the straight highway roads, his mind seemed to wander elsewhere. His usually cheerful side profile gave off a melancholic aura, as he started to list the future plans of our former teammates.

“Brandon, Justin, and Curtis got sports scholarships... John is in arts... Logan’s moving away for culinary school...”

“How do you remember all this?” I asked.

“Because I want to keep tabs on them. We converged from different places, having led different lives. Then we shared the same life story through our basketball days. and now we’re diverging again.”

“...You’re using big words.”

Honda sighed. “It’s just sad that everyone’s scattering. Don’t you think so?”

“I mean... we can still call each other, can’t we? Technology’s pretty advanced now.”

“Keeping in touch isn’t that easy, man.”

“It seems pretty easy.”

“How many of your junior high friends do you still talk to?”

“I...”

“See?”

He got me.

We sat in silence, as I racked my mind. I had many junior high friends. A few of them were super close, in fact. Yet... it felt like I haven’t thought of them in years.

“Distance affects how often you think of people,” Honda continued. “Even if technology makes it physically easier to communicate, we still tend to gravitate towards the people around us. Humans take the path of least resistance, and this applies to relationships too. People we see and interact with effortlessly are the ones we usually hang out with.”

That made sense to me. Despite how close I was with my friends in middle school and elementary, we completely stopped talking by the beginning of high school. It wasn’t that I didn’t like them anymore, it was just easier to hang out with people I saw daily...

It was unfortunate that cell phones had only started becoming a thing in our late middle school years. Maybe if we had the habit of communicating online already, it would have carried over when we got separated.

But what’s stopping me from doing that now?

I looked at my phone.

Nothing much, really.

The means were simple—we could just find them online and shoot a text. However, none of us had done that yet, likely due to the phenomenon that Honda just talked about.

Reaching out to people was harder than it looked.

There was the fear of your friends not reciprocating your feelings. At worse, they respond with rejection and disdain. The risk of receiving that from people you cared about was reason enough not to contact others.

“...Prius? Prius!”

“Huh?”

“We’re here. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just a little tired.”

We were at my house. At some point, the highway had turned into suburban roads without me noticing. I exited the car and grabbed my luggage from the backseat. Honda rolled down his window.

“Well... bye Prius.”

“See ya buddy.”

As he pulled out of my driveway, I called out.

“Honda!”

“What?”

“We’ll keep in touch, okay?”

He gave a confused smile. “Of course bro.”

Stepping backwards, my shoulder brushed against a hard metal surface. I turned to see the rusty truck I restored a couple months ago—I left it on the driveway during our trip. It had a rusty white frame, and its cracked front lights begged for someone to take it out on a ride.

Maybe I should go on another trip? Nah. Solo trips have gotten kind of boring.

Maybe I should go get some fast food? Maybe another day. I gained weight over the trip.

...

I pulled out my phone once more and opened a social media app. In the search bar, I started typing the names of my old friends.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” I muttered to myself.