Lighter

     We called him James although it wasn't his real name, only his middle name. His real name was Ruben but he hated it and being his friends we respected that. Dan tried calling him Ben for a few weeks but that never caught on.

     He laughed when Dan first called him that. "Ben's my dad, not me!"

     But that was years ago and he doesn't laugh like that anymore.

     As thick as Dan can be, even he's noticed the change.

     "I'm worried about you." I told him the other day.

     He smiled but it didn't seem to touch his eyes, cracking the deep frown lines surrounding his mouth. He riffled a hand through his unkempt hair and I could see him shaking.

     "Why?"

     "Ja--you just haven't seemed right since your dad..." I stopped when pain flashed across his face and he clenched his fists. He kicked his legs against the table , chair creaking as his body swayed.

     "Even Dan can see something's wrong."

     "Nothing's wrong!" James shot upward out of his seat, voice shrill.

     I stared at him, my eyebrows knitting together. There were tears in his eyes and he furiously rubbed a hand over them. He stared at me for a minute, meeting my eyes for the first time in weeks. Suddenly, he turned away and walked out the door, hand moving toward his back pocket where he recently began hiding a lighter. I sighed and dug my head into my hands, knowing the conversation was over before it could properly begin.