My Ex-Bestfriend

The Meet Up

My sudden run in with Michael only poured gasoline on my anxiety fuel filled fire. I legit coordinate things for a living but my mind won't stop darting down various rabbit holes ceasing all efforts to formulate a meet up.

Trying to arrange an outing on a good day is hard enough as a working single mother even worse though when I have to be cautious of the circumstances. I don't want it back at our home because I would have to ask Rodrigo to be a buffer or worse babysit. It's not that I don't trust Rodrigo with Walt but I don't want to insert any more hostility into this already volatile situation. 

If we meet outside our condo Walt could potentially stumble upon us and I would have to give an explanation. I want a chance to explain myself to Michael before any surprise encounters from Walt. Today's surprise visit could be a real possibility if I drag my feet any longer. So my place and Rodrigo is a no go.

There is always Christy. I think Christy's house is a better option. Walt is use to Christy's and wouldn't be surprised by her babysitting. It would be the least suspicious to Walt. I just pray she has time in her busy schedule to help me out.

A few text messages later and Christy has agreed to watch Walt for operation Meet -up -with -the -baby- daddy. Of course as long as I dish the dirt to her when we are finished. I would do that anyways for my own sanity.

Now that I have secured babysitting I think about the best place to meet Michael. I have firmly decided against sitting across one another at a diner. I don't want to have to fall for his mystical charm as I stare across from him in a date-like setting. It could also feel more like an interrogation with me as the sitting duck. I want something that would calm our nerves but allow us to  talk effortlessly. Something familiar between us. With a stoke of genius I realized basketball is the solution since the courts have always been our place.

I text Michael the details about meeting up at the courts to play ball while we discuss strategy. Maybe I was reading too much into it but he didn't seem thrilled with the idea but we were doing things on my terms...for now. I drop Walt off at Christy's and tell him I have to meet a client for a very important appointment. He didn't mind once Christy told him she got the new Mario game for the Nintendo switch. I could have told him I was going to meet aliens on their new planet and he would have happily waved me off.

I drive over to the courts thanking God that the park is nearly empty. I don't need anyone eavesdropping on this soap opera level drama. I pop the trunk and grab the basketball. I give it a squeeze with a quick bounce checking the pressure. It's perfect. I see the familiar Escalade whip into the parking lot.

Michael is wearing his college t-shirt, matching shorts, and his high tops. A look I have seen countless times before but as the years have gone by his frame has become more solid. His shirt clings to his chest as his shorts highlight his athletic thighs and calves. He catches me staring a beat too long so I quickly dart my gaze up at the sky pretending to scan our surroundings.

These days I can usually be found in a dress or something more business casual but most definitely less like a tomboy that Michael was accustomed to. For the sake of today's activities I wore my athletic clothes.  However these aren't the same stained boyish baggy clothes that Michael was used to seeing when we played for hours upon hours as kids. I can tell by the way his pupils dilate as he takes in the wonders of spandex. Satisfaction settles in my lower stomach.

Gone is the holey frumpy large shirt replaced with a loose V neck crop top that my sports bra pokes through allowing my cleavage to peak out. For most of our friendship I was flat as a board. The week we fooled around he noticed I had boobs but those have nothing on boobs post child. They grew twice the size since then. I paired my tight black spandex shorts with fresh white shoes to emphasize the glow of my tan legs. I also actually have my own style something I lacked in high school.