A/N: Kinda a sad little one shot that I decided to write when I was bored. But I like it. Hope you will too.
"Hi, I'm Toby," the tall man with the blond hair greeted us. "I'll be your waiter this evening." He smiled.
I cringed at the name.
Just when I quit thinking of him.
I felt Jenna's eyes on me, waiting to see if I was going to break down. I didn't want to. I wanted show her I was fine. But I guess I wasn't, because I couldn't stand it. It hurt. I felt tears building up in my eyes and I got up from the table, mumbled an 'Excuse me', then walked outside. I heard Jenna call my name, but I didn't look back.
I stood outside the restaurant, and cried. I held my face in my hands and cried. I cried for him. I cried for me. I cried for his mom and Jack and Gabe and even Olga. I cried because there was nothing anyone could do. There was nothing left to do. What happened happened and there was no changing it.
It had been four weeks.
Four weeks since I last saw his face.
The last time I saw him I remember being sort of surprised. He looked different. He had lost some weight, mostly in his face, and I thought maybe he was stressed. Toby was stressed a lot. He worked pretty hard. He didn't like to slow down. He didn't like to sleep. So I figured it had finally caught up with him. I didn't think much about it. I just moved on. I had a meet up to go to anyway. And if I knew that was the last time I would ever see him, I would have at least asked if he was okay.
It had been two and a half weeks.
Two and a half weeks since I heard it from Shane, who heard it from Jack.
Toby was in the hospital. Shane didn't know why. Jack didn't say. All Jack really told him was 'He's in the hospital. It's not looking good'.
And then I was worried. 'It's not looking good' meant something horrible. Any other time I had heard that, it was always an understatement, used to make something sound just a little less bad. But I still tried convincing myself it wasn't all that bad, because if it was that bad, if he was dying, then we would have heard something about it before. What could he have that could kill him that quick?
It had been two weeks.
Two weeks since his heart was beating.
And it had been two weeks since I posted anything, on any site. But I still read some tweets, some comments here and there. But they only hurt. People said I had no right to be upset because I hadn't been with Toby in four years, and it wasn't like we were even friends. We never talked. So I had no right to cry. I had no right to be so sad.
That's what people said.
But the thing is, once you love someone, I think, you never really stop. Because you can't forget them and all the time you spent with them. The memories don't go away. I got over Toby. I didn't miss him anymore. But I still loved him because he was Toby and he used to hold me when I cried and he always made me laugh and he kissed my neck and had every inch of my body memorized. How was I supposed to just forget that? I couldn't just fall out of love with him because it didn't work out. I would always care about him.
I always cared about him. I didn't get how people didn't get that.
So two weeks ago, I was waiting in line at Starbuck's. I worked all night on my book, so I only got about two hours of sleep. I needed some coffee if I was going to get through the day.
Then as I was getting impatient in the long line, and too tired and grumpy to carry a conversation with Jenna, I just pulled out my phone and got on Twitter to pass the time. Jenna was on her phone too, but she must not have been on any social media site because she clearly wasn't seeing what I was seeing.
I was seeing Toby.
Everywhere. He was everywhere. All the posts were from no more than ten minutes ago. It had just happened. Or, it had just been announced, at least.
A lot of other YouTubers were tweeting. They were heartbroken. They couldn't believe he was gone. It happened so fast. He was too young. He would never be forgotten. Rest in peace, Toby.
I didn't know what to do with myself. It didn't seem real. I was just in line waiting to buy coffee, and Jenna was beside me, scrolling carelessly on her phone, and people were moving and talking all around me, but Toby was dead. It didn't even register with me, hardly. I squinted at the screen of my phone, pulling it closer to me like I couldn't read what was on it despite its huge size. I shook my head.
I typed in Toby's name and went to his profile, thinking he probably tweeted just one minute ago, wondering who started the crazy rumor. But no. He hadn't posted anything in a week. His last tweet was a Vine of his. So normal.
I looked up from my phone, and scanned the room. A tall guy in gym shorts got his coffee. He took a sip. He walked out the door. A teenage girl with big, curly hair stood on the other side of the room. She was smiling at her phone. Maybe a text from the guy she likes. A middle-aged woman in a suit was in line behind me. She was talking to someone on the phone. She looked serious. Maybe a little annoyed.
I looked at Jenna. She was looking at me already. Her face was blank. She looked me up an down. "You okay?" She asked.
I went back to my phone screen and furrowed my eyebrows at the text. Rest in peace, Toby.
"Toby's dead," I said quietly, mostly to myself.
"What?" Jenna said. She heard me, though. I knew because she sounded shocked and her voice was low.
I told her he was in the hospital. I just didn't make it seem like a big deal. Probably because I was afraid it was a big deal, and didn't want it to be a big deal.
"Toby is dead," I repeated, louder that time.
A little too loud. A few people looked at me. Some looked at me with pity, others just agitation.
Jenna just stared.
I left.
I walked out of Starbuck's and walked down the street. And kept walking down the street. And kept walking down the street. I wasn't going anywhere. I was just walking to be walking. Maybe I thought if I walked long enough I'd run into Toby.
I ended up on a bench outside some pet store. Jenna kept texting me, but I ignored it. I watched people go in and out, usually coming out with bags of dog food. I never was that good with animals. I liked them. I thought they were cute. But I never was very good with them.
Toby had a dog, but I never met him. He came into the picture when I walked out of it (well, technically, Toby was the one who walked out). I never met the dog, but I saw pictures, and he was adorable and I wondered what he was going to do. Where he was going to go. I figured Toby's Mom might take him in. I was pretty sure she had some dogs of her own. I met her one time. Just one time.
I sat there for a while before Jenna pulled up and came and sat with me. She didn't say anything. She just sat with me.
I found out later that day that he had cancer. Everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. And I found out he knew. He had known for months. And everyone was so confused, and that was everyone's question: If he knew, why didn't he do anything about it when there was still time to do something about it?
But I wasn't asking that because I knew the answer anyway.
Toby contradicted himself. He was conceited, knowing how attractive he was and using it to his advantage, but he was also self-conscious, craning his neck to look in mirrors and spending forever making sure his hair was the right kind of messy. He didn't care about appearances, never seeming to notice anyone's but his own, but he was incredibly shallow, basing his entire world on the way he looked. He was nice to everyone, but he was a jerk. He didn't care what people thought of him, but all he cared about was what people thought of him.
He liked the way people saw him and he didn't want to wreck it.
I know I could never have found out something like that—something so huge, so scary—and not have told anyone. I don't get it. But he wasn't like anyone else in the whole world. He was something, someone completely different. Someone no one could put into words. So he wanted to stay that way. So he let it kill him. And I wish it had gone another way. I wish that more than anything. But I also understand him now more than I ever have.