This was originally wrote as a reply in /r/writingprompts:
Eric wore a Carhartt, muddy jeans, and drove a beat-up Dodge Ram that rarely started. But for some strange reason, every girl had made out in the cab. Except me. Because I was his best girl friend.
The night after we graduated from high school we found ourselves sitting in the bed of his truck looking up at the stars. I can assure you were sitting more than a foot apart.
"Think you'll find someone in college?" He asked me as he lit up a Camel.
"I might, I wouldn't mind dating a professor." It was a half-joke, okay?
"I could see you doing that, trying to get A's and stuff." He blew the smoke into the air and hung there like a haze.
"Think you'll find someone back here? Washed up popular girl from high school?" That was 100% serious.
Eric seemed to ponder it for a second. I mean, being from a farm town it wasn't uncommon to just marry. Half our friends were already getting engaged. But for me, I didn't want to stay here and just marry anyone. That's why I was going to college!
"To be honest, I'm not sure there is a girl here I would even consider living in a house with for the rest of my life."
It stung me for a second. I wouldn't exactly say that I loved Eric, but I loved him enough to share a house and a bed. We had spent years trying to get through school, we had grown up together, Eric was literally my best friend.
"So what if," I began. "Let's say 10 years from now we are still single."
"Go on." He urged.
"Okay, so 10 years from now we are going to be what, 27? Maybe 28? I mean life is half over by then."
Eric started to snicker. "Are you trying to make a pact with me?
"Look, all I'm saying is I don't want to be 27-years old and single! And if we are both single we might as well-"
"So in 10 years if we are both single, you think we should get...married?"
We were both silence, the distance you could hear a cicada. But the two of us said nothing, we simply exchanged a handshake.
I went off to college a few months later but of course I stayed in touch with Eric. Every now and then he would call and talk about a girl he had met at a bar, or a girl he had gone out with. None of the girls were ever right. Rarely, if ever, did he go on a second date. Except, finally he had met a girl and their dates became more frequent. He would call twice a week and most of our conversations were about her. With every conversation he expressed a little more love for her. Finally admitting to calling her "girlfriend." He quit asking about my love life long ago. I didn't even have one for that matter.
One night the phone rang and of course, it was Eric.
"Hello?" I answered.
"I need your help, listen. I just need your help." He seemed frantic.
"Well, what's wrong? You're not calling from jail again are you?" Eric had actually been arrested twice for public intoxication. I guess it's illegal to get drunk and drive your tractor on the back roads after midnight.
"No, no. I'm getting ready to," Eric cut off. I already knew what he was about to say. "Propose."
"What help do you need from me?" I asked, slightly irritated. And honestly, jealous. The last time I had even been with a guy was months ago.
"Do you think you can home next weekend and help me?"
Contrary to the jealous, envious feeling that was blaring from my nostrils; I agreed to help him.
Unfortunately, before the proposal the poor girl was informed he had a porn stash. Eric tried to explain it to her by screaming, "I have no idea where those came from!" But she didn't want to be involved with someone that could even possibly be looking at other women.
Finally, Eric found love again! I had graduated from college and was now working back home as a secretary in the doctor's office and so was she. Often she would ask me about our relationship and I barely ever gave her details into our friendship. Eric and the girl were living together, I lived by myself, and sometimes I would bring leftovers to Eric. He had always loved my cooking. But one afternoon while he was at work I dropped off some chili. Eric had left his dress shirts air drying in the kitchen. I reached out to the touch the white fabric and held it to my face. I kissed the collar and left a red lipstick stain. Then I threw it onto his bed and is if it had been stripped from him.
All of Eric's clothes were later burnt by that crazy girl.
By now, we were 27 and it had been 10 years since our pact. I had only went out with handful of men that I found attractive but boring. No one like Eric. No one that made me laugh, smile, and feel whole.
I came home from work one afternoon to find flowers on my front porch. Sunflowers to be exact, my favorite flower. Next to the bouquet was a card with "meet me at the bar tonight, we are going out." It was written in Eric's choppy handwriting.
I sat down at the bar and ordered a vodka water, it had been a long day. Eric arrived shortly after me in a nice shirt and jeans probably from the Buckle. Maybe I was a little underdressed in just a red dress and a flannel.
"Hey stranger." I said to him and noticed the large smile on his face.
He wrapped his arm around me and kissed my cheek. "Want to go some place nicer?" He asked me.
We found ourselves at the only fancy restaurant in town, an Italian place that I couldn't even pronounce. Eric wasn't really the "date" type but we were old friends and liked food.
"I've been thinking," he began as he reached for a glass of red wine. "Remember that pact we made?"
I started to blush but I quickly caught myself, "Oh. That old thing."
"Every relationship I've ever been in has failed. Girls were crazy, that chic burnt my clothes. Remember?"
I did laugh at that one, I wasn't really expecting her to burn everything.
"We've known each other for so long, we rarely disagree, and there's something I need to tell you."
My heart stopped. Here it's coming, he's going to say it. I had waited 10 long years for him to these words to me. He smiled at me as if he was about to break with happiness.
"Eric, you know I-" Before I could finish he interrupted me.
"I'm gay."