My Best Friend's Remote

Monday morning was normal. Tuesday was the same. Wednesday just like it. I had been going through the same routine for months, barely caring that I existed at all, my main focus being to finish some classes which I didn't really care about but I needed to graduate. That was the goal: graduate. Graduate so I could continue the same way I was now and do something to fill my time until I felt sick and sad and picked up another hobby that would distract me for a moment from the pain of being. I wasn't a happy sort. I'm sure you could gather that.

On Thursday, Andrew sat next to me in the small class that consisted mostly of trial and error with simple code to solve some problems, the professor not doing anything unless you had a specific question. I wasn't really the type to ever ask. Most people didn't show up because of this, and Andrew's arrival fifteen minutes late made him the fourth student to enter the class.

"Yo, Grant, what's up?" he said to me in the voice you'd expect him to have. A bit bro-ey. A bit superficial. He was too much of a loser to be an actual bro, but played around with the language

"Hey." My voice was a bit caught in my throat and I had to repeat the greeting. Hadn't talked to anyone else that day and I probably wouldn't talk to anyone after. It was my only class so I'd probably go back to sleep or something. Wasn't feeling up for much else.

Slugging his backpack on the ground, Andrew shifted over in his seat and began to open it with energy and caution, looking around like a cartoon criminal to the others in the room, all typing away to make mediocre Python code to complete a menial task assigned by the professor.

I hadn't noticed, but he had a vibe today. A vibe that was different. Excited. Maybe worried. He smelled sort of nice too. Is it gay to say that? Or to think it? I didn't have a problem with being gay or anything I just wasn't and I didn't want people to think I was. But he smelled pleasant without an artificial scent. There wasn't vanilla or lavender or anything of a shampoo, it was the smell of his scent and his body odor and it smelled good.

"Grant," Andrew called in a whisper, his hand grabbing a specific item in his bag. Why whisper? He wasn't going to hide anything from anyone in the class. It was too small.

I peered over from my laptop screen to him holding a small remote, like that used for a television. For the first half of my life I would have called it a clicker before I found out that was a quirk of midwest families and ditched the saying to better fit in.

"What?" I didn't mean for it to come across rude, but it was in a way. I'm bad at tone and he was holding up a remote as if it were something special. But maybe it was. I made to correct myself. "Er, uh, what is it?"

He paused. It was hard to say hard for him to describe it. I could see in his face as thoughts pranced along his head, but he couldn't make them real. Finally, he asked,

"Do you wanna get lunch after this?"

"Uh... yeah, sure," I muttered, not really knowing how else to respond. What did that have to do with a remote?

"Cool." Andrew held the remote to his side and turned in his seat to face forward, reaching for his computer in a way that sewemed a bit fake. Like he wasn't actually going to code. I went back to typing. As I did, I swear I could hear the light click of the plastic buttons of the remote being pressed amid the sea of keyboards. It wasn't important. I had to worry about other things: I always forget to reset my variables at the end of a loop.

"Class," our professor called out, prompted by nothing. He was a professor who clearly wasn't here for anything but a paycheck. He did his time in education and now this was something steady that paid, and he could spend his time making his backyard look better when he wasn't working. Else all he had to do was regurgitate the same information year-after-year, never learning anything new. "I have to go. I got a text from my wife. I apologize but class needs to end early today."

The professor did a little nod to end his announcement, and quickly we all were happy to have the excuse to leave. He was acting weird, though. He spoke really simply and almost like it was a speech. But he was packing his things now, so I guess it was the truth.

"So, lunch?" said Andrew.

Andrew made me walk to one of the picnic tables outside of a dorm where no one was eating or hanging out because they were too far from classes. I was pretty annoyed at that, but didn't have an excuse because it was my last class of the day. And I guess I was interested in him being secretive and all that. Exciting to have a bit of mystery.

Once again, Andrew brought out the remote, now holding it in front of him with a bit more respect and more freedom to say what he wanted.

"I... uh. I found a remote," he began. Pausing a bit to find the words.

"Yeah. I see that." It's hard not to be snarky. How else can I fill the silences in conversation?

"It is magic. I can change things. I can change whatever I want." Andrew stared at me like he was bracing himself, or trying with all his might to show me something I wouldn't believe. And of course I didn't. That's not something you do when a person goes crazy like that. But I didn't hop to it being a joke. More than anything I was confused.

"....what...? What is the.... why are you saying this?" Sentences are hard to form. "I really don't get the joke if there is one." But surely there'd have to be. You want there to be or otherwise your best friend is a crazy person or an idiot.

Grant sighed in disappointment that he expected before taking the remote and pointing it at a tree. He pushed down and in a series of steps I watched as the tree grew smaller and smaller as if it was farther and farther away, but it wasn't. The tree was small now, and there wasn't any sign it was a different way.

"So I got a lot of choices to make," Andrew said, with a breath in at the weight of this new ability.