Encounter with the Lost Kind 1

Ethan and I had an old history of masochism. We enjoyed tortures. Nothing physical, but it was as bad.

He often would accidentally slip his tongue and told me he went out with this bitch I hated. He spent the weekend with her after we had silly fights, which in frequent exceeded the mortality rate in a third world countries. As a retaliation I would let a guy, whom I knew he considered as rival and happened to be somewhat a close friend of mine, to take me out on a sort of a date. The sort of date you have unpretentiously with your best friends, but to a place where the whole school can see, so he would definitely hear about it.

It was also the endless exchange of verbal abuses that went on for the two years we had this co-depending and abusive relationship, if it could be called a relationship. At my senior year I left home for that vacation, and whatever that was, it was ended.

I could say I ended it. By never returning his calls nor messages. It was never really official. He just kind of ignored me back. This competition thing with him. And "we" just faded away.

And then, one evening, two weeks ago, I saw Ethan again for the first time after 12 years. He's older. Still very good looking. It was in a function. People were crowding the small hall. And my eyes found him just like decades ago, the school dance in the gym.

He had with him this time, an arm candy; skinny, unblemished skin, long silky straight hair, bright inhuman smile.

And he saw me too.