The two men stared at each other. One word hung in the air between them, a big declaration occupying such a small space and making the gulf feel impassable. Around them the party continued, oblivious and innocuous.

Dennis flinched first, breaking eye contact to gaze into the depths of a red Solo cup, once full of liquid merriment but now empty. Kyle took the opportunity to carefully consider the blades of the ceiling fan, circling so lazily without a care in the world.

For most it was just another boring senior party, but for these two it was the end of an era.

Fourteen years they had known one another without breach or schizm. In one beer fueled moment of honesty, Dennis, the quiet one, the lesser party, had crossed the line.

Kyle locked eyes and made as if to speak. No words came, nor could he find any words to appropriately call to a close what had been and what could be. Knowing without a word said, Dennis nodded and turned to disappear into the throng, to leave his friend, and his childhood.