Robert really wasn't a bad guy. He was nice, good-humored, smart, and he clearly loved my sister. But he was just so freaking clueless! It was like he knew nothing about our family. Not to mention, nothing about teenage girls. At all. Whatsoever. "So, Vinny, do you have a boyfriend?" He asked her as we sat around the table. I looked up at my older sister, my eyes wide and my cheeks red, but she just kind of looked down at her plate and smiled. Vinny, on the other hand, was staring at Rob with wide eyes and an open mouth. "Um...no."
"Oh. Well, do you like someone?" Really, dude? Really? She blushed, "Um."
"Do you like the Dodgers?" I asked Rob quickly. Vinny let out a small sigh of relief. Rob looked at me, seeming surprised that I interrupted my sister. Freaking idiot. "Well, sort of, but I'm more of an Angels person." Strike one. "Oh, really?"
"Yea. But I like the Yankees better than both combined," he said with a laugh. I rose an eyebrow. Strike two. "Oh, really?"
"Oh, yea, they're the best. Plus, I love New York." Strike three. "Oh," I said, smiling slightly at my older sister who was now, finally, after half a meal of idiocy from her fiance, blushing as red as a beet. See, this family isn't really into sports. We don't even watch any of the games. But the Dodgers are our team, and if you disagree, well, you get two words:
Good. Bye.
Vinny laughed and I just smiled widely, shaking my head, as Jane put her head in her hands and shook it, groaning. "What?" Rob asked, clearly confused, "I'm sorry, did I miss something?" Jane leaned over and whispered, "Honey, please, you've dug yourself into a deep enough hole." Rob smiled, "Oh, I see. You guys are loyal Dodgers fans. I totally get that. No, they're totally cool too, don't get me wrong, I just prefer the Yankees." Vinny, Mom and I burst out laughing and Jane groaned loudly as she pushed her chair away from the table and walked into the kitchen, carrying her plate of barely touched food to the sink. Vinny and I were still cracking up as Jane pulled Rob away from the table to give him "The Talk", which, in our family, may as well be called "Don't Say You Like The Yankees Unless You Want To Die Soon".
"Tammy?"
"Yes? Hello? Who is this?" I paused, realizing how long it had been since I had heard this familiar voice. "It's Angela."
"Angela...?" I waited. "OH! Angela! Hi! What are you doing calling me?" I was slightly hurt and felt incredibly bad for this question. "Um, I...I just wanted to...talk, I guess." Tammy was silent for a moment. "Oh," she said, clearly surprised, "Ok. What about?"
"Um. How's...how's Canada?"
"Eh. Canadian. Ay." I laughed, "Yea, I suspected as much."
"Yea. Hey, so, what happened with that guy Tyler? Are you guys going out?" I fell silent for a moment, and played with a string coming out of my jeans, hoping I wouldn't unravel them more. "Nope," I said, and Tammy didn't say anything in reply. I sighed before saying, "He moved." I could almost hear Tammy nod, "Oh. Sorry about that." I played with the string for another moment until she added, "Yea, that's kind of a relationship-killer, huh?" I blinked, "Oh." Oh? Oh? Wow. That's just great. Tammy sighed, "Listen, Ang, I gotta go, I have like a butt load of homework. I'll talk to you later, Ok?"
"Yea, of course. Ok. Bye."
"Bye, Angela." Tammy hung up and I put down the phone, looking over at my bedside table where two picture frames still sat: One of Dustin and I, and one of Dustin, Tammy, and I. The second frame had the words "best friends forever" engraved into it. Well. That changed, now didn't it?
...Did it?
© 2010
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