Swing, Batter.

About 10 months ago, my good friend started dating my best friend. 7 months ago, they broke up...badly.

The past 7 months have been a delicate dance. For Brad and Matt, the dances have been The Silent Treatment and I'm Not Apologizing, respectively. For their mutual friends, it's been a veritable recital of Don't Invite Both of Them, Make Sure They Sit On Opposite Ends of the Table, and OhGodDoYouSeeThatLook?BradIsGoingToRipHisFaceOff.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday at dinner, Brad announced to me and Rachel that he was going to start being friendly to Matt. Overly friendly, he said. "In fact, I sent him an email today inviting him to a party this weekend."

I was stunned. Really? Friendly? After all this time, they were just going to be friends again? "Prove it," felt like the natural response.

"Fine. I'll send him a text right now." I watched, holding my breath. Rachel and I glanced at one another, our eyes terrified but hopeful. Was this a trick? Was he just toying with us? Did he have some sinister plan for Matt? "What's your end game?" we asked.

"Nothing! You don't believe me? I'm going to start being friendly with him. Overly friendly," he declared again. Brad typed a text inviting Matt to a baseball game on Wednesday. He set the phone down on the table and it beeped. Message sent.

Brad sat smirking as we squirmed in our chairs, uncomfortable. A hundred questions were racing through my head. What did this mean? What would Matt think? Was this an elaborate plot to lure Matt to the baseball stadium and chain him to a radiator in a dungeon with steam pipes and fiery blasts singeing his ears at regular intervals? We fidgeted as Brad sat across from us, smiling and unrattled.

Maybe this was real. Yes...it was real. They were going to be friends again.

A vibration interrupted the first trusting thought I'd had. Brad's phone was ringing. We all leaned in cautiously to look. It was Matt calling. Calling, after 7 months of silence and avoidance, only 30 seconds after receiving Brad's invitation. Didn't he know it could be a trick? Wasn't he suspicious? It was a gutsy move, without a doubt.

Cool and Collected Brad disappeared as quickly as he'd emerged. He gasped, covered his face with his hands, and dove under the table.

Bluff? Consider it called.

Pulling away from the restaurant, I dialed Matt's number. I desperately needed answers, and wanted to congratulate him on his straightforward move of calling Brad directly. I was proud of him, and was hopeful that this might actually be the start of repairing something that had been badly broken.

What I learned was that at the very moment Brad was diving under our dinner table, Matt was discovering he'd dialed Brad's number by mistake, screaming, and throwing his phone across the room.

It's possible that this "friends" thing is going to take a little longer than I was led to believe.



UPDATE:
It's the day of the baseball game.

Brad: Today is the day!
Me: Whatever. Just remember that I don't handle Class A felonies.
Brad: Is being overly friendly a Class A felony?