Experiment # 7 Meet Cute

ONE tennis court was thankfully open.  We grabbed our rackets and took opposites ends of the court.  This had always been our routine; any emotional drama was soothed by a chocolate indulgence immediately followed by a game of tennis. 
Fallon and I were well matched.  Her amazing backhand rivaled my sharp-angled lefty serve perfectly.  Both of us had respectable forehands and good court coverage.  But where my long legs and speed helped me cover the court just a bit better, Fallon’s offense made that speed essential.
         On court, we were highly competitive, but our relationship off court never was.  Even during our teen years when Fallon’s popularity could have hurt us, we were never rivals. She was a boy magnet, so on those rare occasions when I’d bring a date home and his affections would shift her way, no one was surprised.
       But Fallon would never steal a boy from me.  She loved me too much for that and felt that any boy who could be that callous was not worthy of either of us. We were best friends, and nothing ever came between us.
Nothing that is, except for Jovon.
From the moment she had announced her engagement, our parents had tried to persuade her to rethink that decision.  It had gotten so heated that Fallon had uninvited them to the wedding.  And when I sided with them, Fallon had left the house and not spoken to any of us for over a month.
It had been a very long month for me.  I had missed her terribly.  And so, desperate to reconcile, I apologized, pushed my reservations aside, and dove full force into her wedding plans. We all knew it wouldn’t last.  We knew, but we hoped.
         “Out,” Fallon laughed as my attempted overhead smash nicked the frame of my racket and flew over the fence into the adjacent court.  Fallon ran to retrieve it.  I walked to the bench to grab a sip of water.      
Tennis was great medicine. 
I was toweling myself off, thinking about relationships and how complicated they can be, when Fallon returned.  She was not alone.
         Walking behind her were two guys.  The first one was really tall, overwhelming Fallon’s petite 5’6” frame easily.  He was thin, lean, but muscular, with a huge smile on his face.  The other was—
“Scott!” Heat flooded my cheeks. He was the hottie from middle school, very handsome and almost as tall as his friend, but bulkier—not like a guy who spends hours in the gym lifting weights.  His was a more natural physique. He had beautiful green eyes that highlighted his masculinity skillfully, and when he smiled, the action was knee buckling.
He was a nice guy with boy-next-door charm and magazine cover magnetism.  The type of guy a girl would fall for because of his looks only to discover depth of personality.  A guy I could have easily been interested in had my heart not always belonged to someone else.
          “Look who I found on the other court,” Fallon said sheepishly, breaking into my reverie.  “You already know Scott, right? He said you went to school together.  
Scott smiled that smile I remembered all too well.  “This is his friend Troe. That’s Troy with an ‘E’,” she added, winking at him.  “I invited them to play with us.  I hope you don’t mind.”  She looked at me—a plea in her eyes—and I realized that Fallon, being true to form, needed this distraction.
     “No, that’s fine,” I sighed.  “Do you want to play boys against girls or mixed doubles?”
         “Mixed doubles.”  Of course. She opened a fresh can of balls, then interlocking their arms, pulled Scott towards the other side of the court. A wave of resentment swelled inside me, but I fought it back. Fallon had no idea just how well acquainted Scott and I actually were so I had no right to be angry. 
I sighed and smiled up at Troe who was looking across the court at Scott.  Something passed between them, a look of filled with both surprise and uncertainty. I didn’t understand it, but then Troe smiled at me and tossed me a couple balls.
“Ladies first?” he said.

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