Of course, I have the advantage of getting to know John through Zach, meaning I am off-limits and impenetrable to his charm. John with his good looks certainly doesn’t lack for attention—there are always a bevy of ladies perched on the barstools in front of him, tossing their hair flirtatiously and vying for John’s attention.
John is technically single, but never without a girl. Zach and I have hung out with John and one of his many admirers a few times now—each time it is a different girl, which makes it awkward for me. On these dates, the rotating girls seem desperate to get to know me, as if I am the ticket to reinforcing their relationship with John. “Save yourself. Run far away,” I want to warn them, knowing the heartbreak that will soon follow. Part of me wonders if I am being a traitor to the female gender.
Zach’s other sidekick is Tyler who, unlike John, never has girls around. His first love seems to be happy hours and late-night festivities. I have no idea what Tyler even does for a living or if he even has a job. He is nice enough, but I worry that his lack of motivation will influence Zach whose job in construction management requires him to get up extremely early—often around the same time that John or Tyler are getting home from the night before. The three of them – Zach, John, and Tyler – have been best friends since grade school, so their varying levels of career aspirations doesn’t seem to have a bearing on their friendship.
Kaitlyn has gotten into the habit of making herself scarce whenever Zach comes over. She is a firm believer in the phrase, “a leopard doesn’t change his spots” and makes it clear that she thinks I am making a monumental mistake in giving him a second chance. However, after a week of persistent coaxing, I finally talk Kaitlyn into going out with Zach, his friends, and I to Stan’s for some friendly games of pool.
“So what time are we meeting Zach and his friends?” Kaitlyn asks the night we are all going to hang out.
“Actually, Zach’s riding with us. His friend, John, isn’t getting off work right away so we told him and Tyler that we’d just meet them there.”
“And you’re just telling me this now? That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“Sorry, I didn’t think it was a big thing. He’s on his way here now.”
“You owe me,” Kaitlyn shouts as she runs to her room to get ready.
Nervously optimistic about the evening, I pace the floor until Zach arrives. I know that the night is a gamble—one that can go either terribly wrong or, hopefully, very well, rectifying Kaitlyn’s feelings towards him. My nerves are temporarily assuaged when Zach arrives, flowers in hand.
“These are so pretty, thank you,” I say to Zach, falsely assuming that the flowers are for me.
“They’re for Kaitlyn. I thought it might be a good idea to...”
“Butter her up?” Kaitlyn chimes in, making her presence abruptly known. “I would say it’s good to see you, Zach, but...”
“Well, it’s good to see you, Kaitlyn,” Zach responds, undeterred by Kaitlyn’s unfriendly greeting. “Ah come on, you know that you’ve missed me,” Zach says in a teasing manner while putting his arm around Kaitlyn.
It is a dangerous gesture on Zach’s part. The image of Kaitlyn grabbing his arm and twisting him into submission flashes through my mind.
“Look, I’m just going to be upfront and say this outright: You better watch yourself; don’t try pulling another stunt like you did before,” Kaitlyn says, immediately laying into Zach.
Things are not getting off to a smooth start.
“All I ask is that you are honest with Ashley—that means in person. If you decide to stop dating Ashley or hanging out or whatever it is you’re doing, don’t tell her by text again.”
I watch in horror as Kaitlyn lays out her feelings. She is like a horse, feverishly and unapologetically coming out of the gate. Outwardly, I am scared of Zach’s reaction and want to defuse Kaitlyn’s verbal lashing, but inwardly, I appreciate Kaitlyn’s protection of me.
“I get it; Ashley’s your friend. And I admit, it was an asshole move.”
“It was an asshole move,” Kaitlyn repeats. “See, Ashley, Zach and I agree on something.”
“Great, that’s settled,” I say. “I’m starving; let’s get something to eat before we meet them.”
“I’ll drive,” Zach volunteers.
“No, I’ll drive,” Kaitlyn insists.
“I don’t mind driving, I’d actually prefer it,” Zach responds.
“I’d actually prefer it too,” Kaitlyn challenges.
“No, I’m driving,” I say as a means to terminate the bickering.
I pray that the tension will lessen, but it doesn’t. The battle of wills continues the entire ride to the restaurant. It starts when Zach opens the back door of the car for Kaitlyn, which she interprets as his claim on the front seat.
“Oh no, you don’t. Shotgun,” Kaitlyn says while diving into the front seat, forcing Zach to take the back.
Then, there are the arguments over directions and songs on the radio with both Zach and Kaitlyn feeling the need to give their unrequested input. The squabbling is unbearable:
“Why did you change the station? I love that song;”
“Country? Are you kidding? I hate country music.”
Blah, Blah, Blah.
“Do I have to pull the car over?” I threaten, imitating my parents who used to do the same whenever my brothers and I would argue in the backseat as kids. I was never sure what would happen if my parents had, indeed, pulled the car over—although by the looks on my parents’ faces, I knew it was nothing good. “Can you both just stop?”
My sudden outburst apparently startles Kaitlyn and Zach who remain silent for the remaining car ride.
“Thank you,” I mutter, changing the station so that classical music blasts through the speakers.
It is only after Zach holds the restaurant door open for Kaitlyn that her demeanor slowly becomes less guarded. Maybe it is the combination of food and drinks—Kaitlyn did say that she was “famished” which is evident by the way she scarfs down her food.
As the night progresses, the stilted dialogue between Zach and Kaitlyn slowly evolves into playful ribbing and I cautiously let down my guard. Apparently, so does Kaitlyn who agrees to take Zach up on his offer to play a game of pool.
“I’m only playing you for the satisfaction of kicking your ass,” Kaitlyn reasons.
“Care to make a wager,” Zach asks.
“No, bragging rights are more than enough.”
“So, what you’re saying is that you’re scared that you’ll lose; I get it,” Zach challenges.
“No, I just don’t think it’d be right taking your money. Just put up or shut up.”
It is obvious that Kaitlyn and Zach are working out their differences in that game of pool. Kaitlyn’s competitive side is rearing its ugly head and Zach is taking delight in knocking in his solids while, at the same time, blocking her potential shots.
“Tyler, oh, thank God you are here,” I say to Zach’s friend when he arrives. My overzealous enthusiasm seems to startle him.
“What’s going on? Everything okay?”
“Just grateful for the interruption. Here, let me introduce you to my friend.”