Maynard was lucky.
He lived in a town where when the kids grew up, they never really moved away. The boys were drafted and then went to the community college, and then settled down to live quiet peaceful lives in the town that had raised them.
Maynard had never imagined himself living a quiet life- no, he had imagined himself living in big cities, with bright lights, surrounded by jazz records and late night shows. But he had always imagined himself with Dobie.
That part he had been right about. He might be struggling through college in a unchanging small town, but he had his good buddy by his side. He figured that with Dobie nearby, he'd be okay. Sure, his friend did need the beatnik as much as Maynard needed him, but the blond would always look out for him.
And because of that, he was lucky. Dobie and he spent late nights studying and working on homework, which usually evolved into talking, Maynard's jazz records as steady background music.
Maynard's fears hadn't been confirmed yet. Dobie hadn't pulled away from him yet. They were two buoys, drifting along side-by-side, through calm seas and rough waves, just as they always had. Just as Dobie had told him, "I go where you go. You go where I go."
Sometimes the beatnik lay awake in his dorm, staring up at the top bunk where his best friend slept. He knew it was his own insecurities- that's what his parents always said- but he was scared of being left alone. He knew one day Dobie would be able to catch a girl and get married, and then he wasn't so sure if the blond would be keen on keeping his friend around.
That's what he was scared of, losing Dobie, his best friend.
But that hadn't happened yet, and so Maynard was lucky.