Vignettes

Clemson reappeared at kickball this season. He returned a little thinner and a little more reclusive. He says he's been working.

Abraham and I walked into the league bar in our matching kickball t-shirts. After I greeted Clemson and walked away, Abraham nudged him.

"Remember when you told me to stay away from her? I didn't listen to you," Abraham smiled.

Wait. So Clemson told Abraham to stay away from me? The news of this hurt. Yeah, we had a weird back-and-forth thing for a couple of months, but I didn't think it warranted telling other people to not be friends with me. I never would have said that of him.

Abraham, perhaps seeing my hurt, said he thought Clemson said that last year because he had unrequited feelings for me. I'm not so sure.

I no longer greet Clemson at the bar. I have nothing to say to him. Abraham still approaches him to talk football.

***

For Mel's birthday, a large group of friends met at the park to go to the food trucks. It was one of the last warm days of fall that didn't require a jacket.

As I waved and headed toward Harvey and Swayze, I heard my name being called. It was Schmoozer.

"How are you? How are things with Abe?"

"Good and good. We just picked a date to move in together."

Schmoozer sighed. "Man, I feel like I'm behind the curve on the relationship front."

He didn't realize the extent of Katie's relationship with the boy who came after him. That he moved in. That they are talking marriage. Mel's boyfriend was lost somewhere in the food-truck crowd. And now my news. He had a reason to feel that way. Maybe he'll treat girls a little more genuine now.

Schmoozer went to get food and his best friend joined me.

"I hear you're moving in with Abe," he said.

News travels fast.