On Purpose

~12~

As I waited for Kyle, I couldn't help but feel like I was going on a date. My palms were sweaty, my heart was racing, and my mind was a flurry of thoughts and emotions. I haven't felt this apprehensive in a long time, not since the day Isabelle met my dad which went better than it should have. It's funny how some moments in life can make us feel like we're back to square one, even when we've come so far. We
I was overcome with an eerie sensation that someone was watching me. I turned around swiftly, yet found no one was; they were all engaged in their own conversations. I felt uneasy and my body language reflected it- my leg was bouncing anxiously and my forehead was damp with droplets of sweat.
When I entered the bar thirty minutes ago, I ordered a refreshing glass of water and made my way towards a cozy table by the front window. The view outside was quite picturesque, with cars zooming past and pedestrians hurrying along the sidewalk. Soon, I noticed a few raindrops tapping against the window pane, heralding the arrival of a light drizzle. I continued to sip my water, feeling content and relaxed in the warm and inviting atmosphere of the bar. And even though I was waiting for someone, I looked alone. I felt alone. Like I was supposed to be here, by myself. I tried not to give people that inception by looking at my watch and around the room. I told myself he wasn't gonna show up. It was already knocking on eleven and I still hadn't gotten a response from my dad. I checked my email from my phone. Nothing, na-da, zip, pow.
"Olly?" I jerked. Although it was loud in here, the voice that was directed at me, made me flinch.
"Kyle." I breathed out.
He stood before me with a rain jacket on. He looked the same, but just, older. He was still short and had long hair. This time, his hair was cut.
In middle school, it was shoulder length, now it's curly and cut shorter, stopping right behind his neck. I noticed a lip ring and a tattoo on his neck. His jacket made it hard to see a little, so I didn't endeavor to get a better look when he took a seat across from me.
"Damn, you don't age, do you?" He asked, laughing to himself. I laugh at him and say, "I don't have kids, never been married, so no. If I do start aging, blame my dad. I'll have more grey hairs on my head before he grows some on his beard." I say indifferently.
"He has a beard?" He asked.
"No, that's the point."
He laughed and so did I. After our shared short laugh, it went quiet.
"What about you? Married? Kids?" I ask, trying to bring up a straightforward conversation.
"Yeah." he held up his left hand and on his ring finger was a ring. He gives it a wiggle and smirks at me.
"I guess I beat you to the punch, huh?"
I nod, feeling embarrassed that over thirteen years, I was the only one who didn't change.
Mariah was a mom, and Kyle was locked in with a ring while I watched Monday Night Football with my dad and best friend.
"How long?" I asked, feeling like a kid again.
"Three years. She's pregnant."
I smiled.
"Wow, somebody's been getting freaky."
He kicks me under the table and I wince.
"Ow." I pulled my leg up to touch where he kicked, but I didn't get far, due to my long legs.
"So, umm," he said, looking over out the window, watching the aftermath of the rain roll down the glass.
"What's new with you?" He asked.
"I dunno, I haven't changed. I still joke around with my old man and make sure he's well taken care of."
He nods and says, "You're a good son, do you want your own?" That made me blush, I haven't thought about having kids, minus the small thought that crossed my mind when I watched the man disregarding his daughter and their conversation.
"Maybe, why?"
"I don't know. You'd be a cool dad. Teach him how not to kiss a girl and then tell her her breath smells."
My eyes widened.
"How do you know about that?"
He chuckles and leans forward and pushed his butt back into the seat. "You are not the only one I reacquainted with from our childhood."
I smiled and leaned back in my chair.
"I take it you saw Mariah again," I let out when he was done talking.
"Have you?"
I nod.
"She's got some kids." He pulled his hair back and shook his head in disbelief.
"I saw her at the theater last week on Friday. She had a kid, as in one, not kids."
He looks at me and then down.
"Yeah, I know."
I raise an eyebrow.
"Have you met them?" I questioned.
"Yeah," he sighed. Something clearly bothered him. "Yeah?" I said, drawing the word out like a song.
His eyes lock on mine and he says, "One of them is mine."