Since they were children, Ben and Annie had been inseparable, and Toby was always with them.
The three of them were thick as thieves. Everywhere the boys went, she followed: if they climbed onto a roof, she was right there; if they went fishing, Annie was part of the group.
They were in the same grade at school. Ben and Annie were straight-A students, while Toby scraped by with Cs, but that never got in the way of their friendship.
People called them "The Three Musketeers and a Dog." There actually was a dog—Buster, a large white stray with black patches.
He followed the kids everywhere. If you saw a curled tail poking out of the bushes, you knew the inseparable trio was inside, either gorging themselves on wild berries or hatching some mischievous plan.
Time flowed steadily, and almost overnight, the children turned into teenagers.
Ben promised to be a handsome man; by fourteen, he was already driving the local girls crazy with his deep blue eyes and thick, dark hair.
Annie had shot up too, filling out in all the right places. The wide-mouthed girl with two pigtails had transformed into a pretty, sweet teenager. She wasn't a classic beauty yet, but she was certainly charming.
Toby grew into a lanky, red-headed teenager with oversized ears. The group stayed close, but as they got older, everyone started noticing that Ben spent most of his time with Annie. Toby was still there, of course, hovering nearby with Buster.
"Ben, come on, quit fixing your hair," Toby said, dancing impatiently on the spot. "They say the guys from the city are coming. Last time I saw them breakdancing—man, I wish I could move like that," Toby added enthusiastically.
"Hmm," Ben grunted mockingly, slicking back his wavy hair. "Actual breakdancing?"
"Yeah," Toby nodded eagerly. "The floorwork and everything. You should see them spin."
"We'll see," Ben murmured. "We'll see. Where's Annie? Is she here yet?"
"No, forget her. Let's just go, the two of us. Why does she always have to tag along?"
"Are you crazy? Go look for her."
Annie arrived a moment later, wearing a bit of makeup.
"Stole her mom's lipstick," Toby spat. "All painted up like a princess." He was feeling a bit jealous of the attention Ben gave her. Why did she always have to stick to them?
They were guys; maybe they needed to talk man-to-man, but there she was, clinging to them like a burr.
"My mom said I have to be home by midnight," Annie said.
"Ha!" Toby laughed. "Everything only starts at midnight."
"Toby, your mom told you to be home by eleven..."
Damn it, Ben. He could have just kept his mouth shut. Toby took offense and sulked.
"Come on, you two, don't fight. Let's just head to the club."
"Nobody's fighting," Toby said defiantly.
Actually, Annie was alright, it was just annoying that she was always there. But a minute later, when Annie took both boys by the arm and they started walking toward the community center, Toby decided she was a pretty decent girl after all.
***
Soon the kids grew up even more, almost without realizing it. Toby saw that Ben was spending more and more time alone with Annie. Logically, he should have stepped aside, but he acted as if he didn't notice a thing, continuing to hang around them.
People started making jokes at Toby's expense.
Then one day, Ben told him flat out not to come to the park bench that evening.
"What do you mean, don't come?"
"Damn it, Toby... I want to sit with Annie. Just the two of us... you get it?"
"No. What's the deal? You're gonna sit and listen to music with her, and your best friend gets the boot? Is that it?"
"Toby, why are you being so difficult? I'm telling you straight: I want to be alone with Annie! What's not to understand?"
"Yeah, I get it. Whatever."
Toby walked away, head down. Ben felt uneasy; he knew Toby was hurt, but he needed to talk to Annie.
Suddenly, Toby stopped, stood still for a moment, then turned around and marched back to Ben.
"Look," he said, poking a finger into Ben's chest. "You can sit with Annie alone tonight. Но later, you're sitting on that bench with me, just the two of us, without her. Got it?"
"Deal," Ben said with a wide grin.
"You better mean it. You promised..."
"Alright, alright," Ben laughed.
What a joke, Toby thought. Ben thinks he needs "privacy" to talk to Annie. Go on then, go kiss your precious Annie. He stopped short.
Wait. Did he? Were they...? Ugh, no way. Toby wanted to run back and scream at them, tell them they were gross, traitors, disgusting.
And then, to his own surprise, Toby burst into tears. Just like that—a sixteen-year-old boy walking down the street crying. He couldn't even explain why.
He went home, locked himself in his room, and lay with his face buried in his pillow for a long time. He wanted to die. Let them find him like that. He'd look peaceful, maybe even handsome. His mom would probably buy him a new shirt for the funeral. And they'd be crying. Ben would be crying, and that... Annie girl, she'd be sobbing too. And there he'd be, young and tragic.
His mom would cry, and his little sister, and his dad. He felt bad for his parents and his sister, Natalie. Who would look out for her now?
Toby started crying again, out of pure self-pity. I'll die, and then they'll see, he thought. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, Toby was at the mirror, trying to comb his unruly curls.
"Mom!"
"What is it?"
"Mom, give me a haircut."
"You don't look like you need one yet."
"Mom, can you do it... you know, stylish?"
"What's 'stylish'?"
"I don't know. I'm just tired of looking like this."
"Go see Mr. Jenkins at the barbershop then. He'll do it."
"Does he actually know how to do modern styles?"
"The men in town go to him. I suppose he knows what he's doing."
"No, Mom... can you just give me some money? I'll go to the salon in the city."
"The salon? Aren't you a bit young for that?"
"Please, Mom..."
"Alright, fine."
"Mom?"
"Yeah?"
"Am I... handsome?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake! What are you, a girl? Stop being vain."
"Just tell me!" Toby insisted.
"You're a good-looking boy."
"That's a shame."
"What's a shame?"
"I wanted to be handsome," Toby said, inspecting his sun-peeled nose in the glass.
"Go feed the chickens, 'Prince Charming'."
***
By the time they finished high school, everyone knew Ben and Annie were a couple. Toby had somehow come to terms with it, but he still followed them around. He would tactfully stand a little ways off while the two of them whispered to each other.
After graduation, Annie went off to college, Toby went to the local vocational school, and Ben decided to join the Army first, planning to use the GI Bill for university later, though he could have gotten in easily either way.
Toby wanted to enlist too—he even went to the recruitment office—but they turned him down for medical reasons. He was devastated.
At the farewell party before Ben shipped out, Ben pulled Toby aside and asked him to look after Annie.
"Who'd want your Annie anyway?" Toby tried to joke, but he caught himself and promised his friend he'd look out for her. Annie spent the whole night hanging onto Ben, barely giving Toby a chance to say a proper goodbye. Always clinging to him...
Ben wrote letters to his mother, to Annie, to Toby, and even to Mrs. Gable, their old biology teacher.
He wrote to his mom telling her not to worry, that he was eating well and staying safe. To Mrs. Gable, he wrote about the plants and animals he saw during training. To Toby, he sent funny stories about life in the barracks. And to Annie... well, no one knew what he wrote to her.
But Annie always looked glowing and happy after those letters arrived.
Ben didn't come home on leave, explaining that by skipping it, he'd get discharged a month early.
But just as Ben's service was nearing its end, ugly rumors started spreading about Annie.
"Honey, people are talking," her mother said one day. "They're saying you're pregnant. And you have put on quite a bit of weight lately."
Annie didn't say a word. She just lowered her head and slipped into her room.
The gossip wouldn't stop, and eventually, the word reached Ben's mother.
"Don't you dare lie!" she snapped at the neighbors. "Leave the girl alone, or you'll have me to deal with."
Then things took a turn. It was summer break, and Annie stopped leaving her room altogether. She was "sick," pale, and couldn't keep any food down.
One evening, Toby showed up with his mother. She was practically shoving him through the door while he kept his eyes glued to the floor.
"Go on, you coward," his mother hissed at him. "Go in there and make it right."
"Mom, I told you, I'm willing! She's the one who won't... she said no."
Annie's mother watched this scene, bewildered. "What's going on, Clara?"
"I'll tell you what's going on, Sarah. You and I are going to be grandmothers soon. Can't you see your girl is about to pop? You... you animal!" she shouted, swinging her hand at her son.
Annie's mother sank into a chair. Annie stepped out of her room, pale and head bowed.
"Annie," her mother whispered, staring at her daughter. "Is it true?"
Annie nodded and looked back at the floor.
"I'm not against it, Mrs. Miller," Toby said. "I told her we should get married, but she's stubborn. She says she has to wait for Ben..."
"Ben?" her mother gasped, still reeling. "Ben? You think Ben is going to... with you like this? Oh, Lord!" she wailed, clutching her face. "What did I do to deserve this? How am I supposed to look at people?"
Annie silently retreated to her room. Toby and his mother lingered for a moment before leaving, Clara adding one last time that they wouldn't turn their backs on the baby.
Clara, Toby's mother, told everyone that her "idiot son" had gotten Sarah's daughter pregnant. She wondered aloud when they'd even found the time, and complained that Annie was being stubborn, refusing to marry him because she was "waiting for Ben."
Ben's mother ordered everyone to shut up. The local women were afraid of her sharp tongue, and she warned Clara specifically that she'd regret it if she kept talking.
"It's none of your business," she said firmly. "And tell your friends: if anyone dares to write to Ben about this while he's serving, they'll answer to me. They'll figure it out themselves. Stay out of it."
***
Three months later, the soldier returned home. He spent a long time talking with his mother and father behind closed doors. The next morning, he walked to Annie's house and knocked. When he entered, she was standing by the table, her hands cradling her large belly, a small smile playing on her lips.
Annie's mother gasped in fear.
"Hello," Ben said.
"Hello, Ben," the mother whispered.
"Annie, get your things. I've come for you."
"But how—" the mother stammered, rushing toward him. "Where are you taking her, Ben? Don't hurt her, son. Don't let this be on your soul. Blame me, I should have watched her better. Please, don't touch my daughter..."
"Mrs. Miller, what are you talking about? I've come for Annie. We're a family. Come on, let's sit down like a family. You're my mother now, too."
Two weeks later, Annie gave birth to a daughter, Nina, named after Ben's mother. She was a beautiful baby, looking very much like Annie. Two years later, Annie gave birth to a son, Peter—a healthy, strong boy.
Ben never spoke another word to Toby. It was as if their lifelong friendship had never existed; his old friend became a ghost, a hollow space.
Toby got married a year later to a cheerful girl from a nearby town. She gave him a daughter, Sarah. Curiously, she looked exactly like Nina. As the girls grew up, people had a hard time telling them apart.
One day, Nina was walking home from school, and Toby called out to her.
"Sarah! Wait up, let's go to the store. We need to get something for your mom's birthday."
"I'm Nina, Mr. Thompson."
"Oh... geez. Right. I'm sorry, Nina. I'm so sorry, kiddo."
"What for?" she asked, laughing as she ran off.
Ben and Annie have lived together their whole lives, and not once did he ever throw the past in her face. It was clear he truly loved his Annie.
But he never did speak to Toby again.
People talked for a while, but eventually, they forgot. That's what people do.
Ben's mother, however, absolutely adored her daughter-in-law and her granddaughter, Nina. No one really knows what happened back then, and there's no point digging up the past now.
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