Flashback – October 10, 1968

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"Watch it, Forman. Donna's my girlfriend, so go get bent, dillhole."

David Milbank laughs as he pushes me to the ground, sneering. Even at seven years old, I understand that it's pretty humiliating to have a nine-year-old with scoliosis and asthma beat you up behind the back wall of your school. Donna giggles too, pulling Milbank's hand. "Let's go," she says, with a mean glance at me.

I'm still on the ground, nose bleeding and face red. I squeeze my eyes shut and pray for a miracle, for anything, before I hear another voice.

"Hey—"

I look up in time to see a small fist connect with Milbank's chin. He howls, limping away with Donna in tow. Amazed, I look up at the curly-hair kid in front of me who is now shaking his head and rubbing his knuckles. He looks down at me and I scramble to my feet. "That was—thanks."

His incredible blue eyes survey me calmly. "Yeah. Whatever." He turns to go.

"Wait!" I stop. I want him to stay, and I don't know why. "Would you—I mean—what if David comes back? And, you know, beats me up again?"

"Then he comes back. Not my problem." The kid starts to walk away.

"What I mean to say is—would you walk me home?" The words come out rushed, and my eyes are wide as I wait for his answer.

After a moment, he sighs. "Sure. Whatever, man." I grin.

"But you owe me a quarter."

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I don't know why this particular memory, the first time I ever met Hyde, pops into my head as I finish clearing the plates from dinner. I think it's because from the moment I spoke to him, looked at him, I somehow knew that he'd always be a fixture in my life. Even years later, when we were smoking up in the basement or hanging around The Hub after school, I knew it'd always be me and Hyde. The two of us, together always.

Later, after I started dating Donna, I began to see four people in my vision of the future: Donna, me, Hyde, and whoever Hyde ended up with. But it was consistent: he was my best friend, and I knew he was here to stay.

He had to be.

That's why when we found out he was leaving for New York, it hit me the hardest. Steven Hyde couldn't be leaving Point Place. It was like I had told him on the steps that night at Edna's—we were finally getting old enough to do some serious damage to this town!

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. I can't think about him leaving. "It hurts too much," I mutter to myself, then frown.

Did I just say that?

My feelings surprise me. Do I . . .?

No. There are no feelings. Stop it. You have Donna, you love Donna, Hyde's your best friend—

I shake the discomforting thoughts out of my head, putting the last of the plates in the sink and walking out of the kitchen.

As I walk down the basement stairs, head still in the clouds, I almost don't notice the curly haired boy slumped on the couch, watching Donahue.

My heart skips a beat and I swallow hard. He stayed. Hyde's staying. He's not leaving. My thoughts are racing a mile a minute, so I decide to play it cool as I jump over the couch and sit down next to him, praying I look a lot calmer than I feel.

He turns to look at me, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. "You surprised to see me?"

I smile slightly. "Nah, I knew you'd stay."

"Yeah, we've been friends way too long."

The same odd feeling returns to chest and I don't know what to say. After a moment, I decide that resorting to wit is my best option.

"No, Chrissy just drove by with some guy on the back of her bike."

Hyde looks at me, surprised. After a moment, he feigns indifference again. "Poor kid," he says mock-sympathetically. "She's grieving."

I laugh. "So you're okay, man?"

"Of course I'm okay."

"Alright. Well . . . You wanna get high anyways?"

He grins.