Zach had just rounded out the game, knocking in the eight ball, and winning. His need to boast is thankfully dimmed by Tyler’s appearance. John arrives a few minutes later giving an added buffer between Kaitlyn and Zach’s interaction. To my relief, Kaitlyn is fairly receptive to Zach’s friends and doesn’t fault them for their association with Zach.
John suggests a game of teams—Zach and I against John and Kaitlyn.
“Sounds good, rack ‘em up,” Zach responds.
Although I am not particularly good at pool, I do welcome the chance to infuse some fun into the night.
Tyler makes the perfect sideline heckler. Never have I liked him more.
“Eight ball left corner pocket. Read it and weep,” Zach says right before sinking in the final shot of the game.
“Good game,” Kaitlyn says to both Zach and me. She even shakes Zach’s hand and smiles—a real smile too and not one filled with contempt.
From there, the rest of the evening seems lighter, no longer tense. What I had feared would be an early evening of disappointment turns into a late night of fun. In fact, too much fun—the Lyft ride home is a blur.
I slowly amble my way into the kitchen the next morning only to find Kaitlyn already awake, dressed, and getting ready to head out the door.
“You look surprisingly refreshed this morning. Did you have a good time last night?”
While I didn’t expect Kaitlyn to gush about the evening, I didn’t expect her response to be a contemptuous grunt.
“What, you didn’t have fun?”
“It was okay,” Kaitlyn replies.
“Oh, it just seemed like you were getting along with Zach by the end of the night. And his friends.”
“It was fine.”
“Is something wrong? Did something happen?”
“No, nothing is wrong,” Kaitlyn answers.
“It just seemed like you were having a good time by the end of the night. Are you still upset with Zach?”
“I’m just not a fan.”
“Why—because of before? Are you still holding that against him?”
“Can’t I just not like the guy?”
Kaitlyn’s revelation about Zach throws me for a loop. How could I have misjudged the night so badly and what is it about him that bothers her so much? I don’t need to have Kaitlyn’s approval, but I definitely wish that I had it. Although the night started a bit rocky with Zach and Kaitlyn bickering like school kids, it ended pleasantly.
“I’m just trying to understand why. It seemed like you were having fun last night. I don’t understand why you are being so hard on him.”
“Call it my instinct. I’m sorry, Ashley. I just don’t trust him.”
“Well then can you, at least, be civil and try to be nice to him?”
“I’ll try,” Kaitlyn says, which I come to learn means that she will continue making herself scarce whenever Zach comes around. Gone is my illusion of future joint outings with my best friend and the guy that I am dating.
IT IS FRIDAY EVENING and Zach is out of town for a work project. I welcome the reprieve of not having to go out and look forward to spending the night curled up on the couch in my pajamas, eating pizza, and watching movies. It has been weeks since Kaitlyn and I have spent time together with neither of us acknowledging our separation as intentional. Her feelings about Zach cause me to spend more time with Zach at his place or with his friends.
TGIF! Movie night with pizza and vino?
My text to Kaitlyn is my olive branch—some quality time with my best friend is sorely needed. Three dots appear on my phone, indicating that she is texting back a response. I change into my pajamas while I wait for her to respond, only to find that she doesn’t.
I wait a little longer before texting Kaitlyn again. It is only after the pizza is delivered that I text:
Pizza has arrived. Come get it.
Opening credits flicker on the TV; my second text to Kaitlyn remains unanswered serving as a confirmation of our strained friendship. When I wake the next morning, having fallen asleep on the couch, the television is turned off and the pizza moved to the refrigerator. Kaitlyn, whose bedroom door is closed, must have gotten home while I was asleep.
“Off to Taekwondo. Missed you last night,” I write on a note and carefully attach it on the refrigerator with a magnet. Re-reading the note, I add an underline beneath the “miss” and “you”.
THE APARTMENT IS EMPTY when I get home from class, with my note to Kaitlyn still hanging on the refrigerator. Her bedroom door is open, and her backpack and laptop are missing, making me assume that she is out studying—something she typically does at our place. The library, she would complain, is too quiet and uncomfortable.
I was hoping to talk to her and address the tension between us. In all of our years of friendship, this is the only time that we’ve gotten into a fight or had any type of disagreement. If I have learned anything from my previous car ride with Logan, it is the need to honestly and directly address a problem or situation.
Since our car ride together, Logan and I have become classroom acquaintances—polite to each other during class, with our conversations limited and centered primarily on Taekwondo. Our outings to the smoothie shop are now a thing of the past. It is this strained friendship that encourages me to do what is necessary to prevent this from happening with Kaitlyn. I miss her and need for her to know it.
Only the restaurant tonight is hopping, leaving little time for talking or remedying friendships. Both Kaitlyn and I are working the same shift and have barely had a chance to even say hello. As soon as one of my tables is bussed, another group of patrons is seated. The only words I have time to utter are “I need a runner” or “can someone refill the drinks at my table.”
The tips are worth it, though, which is what I tell Kaitlyn while we are closing out our shift: “Tonight’s tips just got us closer to our trip to Scotland.”
“Scotland? You mean you still want to go?” Kaitlyn replies.
“Of course, I do. Why wouldn’t I?”
“You’d have to tear yourself away from Zach. Can you be separated from him that long?” Kaitlyn asks, her anger reflected in her tone. Apparently, she is more upset than I realized.
“Of course, I can. I’m looking forward to our trip.”
“Well, I wasn’t sure,” Kaitlyn says. “I never see you anymore, so I just figured—”
“I know, and about that, I’m sorry, Kate. I’ll be better about that, I promise.”
Her guarded stance melts with those few words, revealing the strength of our friendship. It is enough of an apology to put us back on track.
“Are you going out with everyone to O’Malley’s?” Kaitlyn asks demurely. It isn’t until Kaitlyn’s question that I realize how long it had been since I had participated in our post-shift Saturday night ritual. Spending the last several weekends with Zach, I had neglected my own friends—a point that is made abundantly clear to me, not only by Kaitlyn, but by the other servers as well when I join them at O’Malley’s.
“It’s about time you joined us after work,” Amy says. “You sure you don’t need to run off to be with your man?”
It is a bitter pill to swallow. Without realizing it, I had become one of them—a boyfriend-obsessed female who callously disregards her friends. I used to make fun of girls like that. To make matters worse, I can’t even refer to Zach as “my boyfriend”. To be honest, I’m not even sure where I stand with him. Learning my lesson the first time, I refuse to broach the subject of our relationship status with Zach. Instead, I tread lightly, waiting for his signals, relying on his cues, and going along with his plans. Sitting now with Kaitlyn and Amy, I realize that I had lost myself (and my friends) somewhere in the process. It is a wake-up call that I am grateful to receive.