High school threatened our little threesome. Our more demanding classes, my volleyball, and the boy’s football all took a chunk of our time. Still, we were together every moment we could be.
Mark was a starting running back for the junior varsity team. At the same time, Timmy, now Tim, was a starting defensive end for the varsity team. He was a six-foot-four, two-hundred-pound solid wall, a dominating threat to any team. For a guy his size, Tim was fast. And he was handsome. He could have had his pick of any of the girls that year, but he didn’t seem interested. He spent whatever free time he had after school, football practice, and his part-time McDonald’s job with me. And Mark.
Mark and I didn’t have to work, so we spent our additional spare time together. He finally asked me out on an actual date. Soon after, we were officially dating. Timmy was his usual quiet, reserved self. When he smiled and told us he was happy for his two best friends to be in a relationship, I almost believed him.
Mark’s approach to relationships at that time was best described as aloof and distant. When I was with him, I felt loved and alone, both at the same time. I was devoted to Mark and our connection. He took our relationship simply as a point of pride and just another notch on his adolescent post.
We all still went to parties, movies, and school dances together. We took some ribbing from the other students, but we never let that impact our friendship.
During the summer between our freshman and sophomore years, Mark and his family went on an extended multi-family European vacation. They were joined by the Smith family, which included a red-headed bitch named Rebecca.
Mark and I talked, and he suggested it was best if we officially split before his vacation since he was going to be gone for six weeks. I had a feeling that he was more interested in little Miss Rebecca than he let on. I knew why we broke up.
The breakup initially left me feeling empty. I wasn’t overly hurt by our breakup even though I loved Mark. I loved him more than as a best friend, but it wasn’t the all-consuming lover’s love. I loved Tim as well, maybe the same way. I was more hurt when Tim couldn’t spend as much time with me as I wanted him to after Mark left than I was when Mark left. It was all so confusing.
Tim’s part-time father had given him an old piece-of-shit muscle car that he had inherited from his father. Tim loved that rusted-out piece of junk. It did have potential. All 1969 Pontiac Firebirds do. Tim spent every dime he had on that thing just to keep it running. It was ugly, but at least it was a set of wheels that usually had a full gas tank. Since I was just fifteen and Tim was already sixteen, with a freshly minted driver’s license, Tim drove over to see me each day. My parents would leave by eight each morning, and Tim would arrive around nine to hang out till he went to work in the afternoon. We ate junk food, he worked out at my dad’s home gym, and we watched TV together. Those days were special.
Tim was into his umpteenth repetition on the bench press. He was ignoring me. I snuck up and dumped an ice-cold glass of water on his flexing chest. Shrieking like a maniac, he slammed the bar into its rest. Those eyes, those damn eyes, flashed hot and dark. I thought I might have pissed him off. Then a spark, a mischievous glint, flashed in his eyes. All my instincts said run. I did!
Did I mention that for a big guy, Tim was fast? And agile? And a true athlete? He sprang up and gave chase. I squealed as I ran. I sprinted out of the gym, down the stairs, out the patio door, and toward the pool house. I didn’t stand a chance. Tim was half a step behind me the entire time. He snatched me up by my waist as I entered the pool house. We tumbled onto the love seat we kept in there. He grabbed my cup and gleefully poured the remnants of the ice water I still held all over me. We wrestled on the sofa and rolled off onto the floor.
The big goof landed on top of me, our eyes locked, and our laughter ceased. The connection I had with Tim was far beyond anything I had with Mark.
Looking back now, I see that each of the two relationships I had with Tim started when Mark was out of the picture. It seems odd now. It was like Tim always waited for a time when Mark couldn’t interfere with us. I guess it might have been because Mark was always our unofficial leader. It was just how he was built. If I had recognized the coincidence, I never gave it thought or life at the time.
Tim seemed committed, just as I was. This was real. I felt like it could last forever.
I was nervous about seeing Mark for the first time after he came home, given the summer I had. I felt a little guilty about starting a relationship with Tim while Mark was away. I shouldn’t have been. Upon his return, Mark explained how he and Rebecca were now dating. Tim and I shared our new relationship with Mark, and our threesome became a foursome going into our sophomore year. We hit all the school functions and dances together. Surprisingly, Rebecca and I became friendly.
Towards the end of our junior year, my relationship with Tim became strained. I was taking college prep classes. He worked more than ever and spent a ton of time in the gym, preparing for football season. We all knew that his best chance for a college education was to be stronger and faster going into his senior year.
“I really don’t want to break up, Tim.” I was teary-eyed and fearful.
“Neither do I, Brie.” My man of few words. “But I feel like I owe you more of a commitment than I can give you right now. I don’t want to hold you back from all the experiences you deserve in your senior year of high school.” No matter how much I resisted, my big man grew distant.
It took time, but I finally realized Tim was right. I didn’t like it, and I actually held a grudge against him for a while. But I couldn’t stay mad at him. Those eyes had a way of melting me.
The beginning of our senior year was hectic. Soon I was too busy to be mad, and we drifted back into our comfortable friendship. It was slightly more than just a friendship, but we never bothered to name it. We didn’t show each other any physical affection more than a hug or a kiss on the cheek. There was always an unspoken understanding between us about that.
We all turned eighteen and were ready to explore adulthood. By that time, Mark and Rebecca had split. Mark couldn’t keep it in his pants. It was back to only the three of us. I sort of dated both of them. We would all go to dances together, and occasionally only two of us went out together. Sometimes I went with Mark and sometimes I went with Tim. Mark dated a couple of other girls. I limited myself only to my boys. Tim restricted himself just to me. I asked him to and even begged him to date others, but that just wasn’t his style.
Tim’s grades weren’t as good as Mark’s or mine were. Still, he was being considered by several Division I schools and was a cinch for a full-ride scholarship. Mark and I couldn’t have been prouder of our friend. After becoming a starting fullback on the varsity team, Mark decided not to pursue football. With Mark, the chase was what he loved, and just like when he finally got the girl, he moved on. I think his football success was the same. He and I were set to attend the same school in the fall: San Diego State University.