Cake

(Kayla, 1984)

Doesn't that just take the cake?

Cheyenne takes my dog to the park when he was sick, spends the entire afternoon talking to some guy, and ends up going to dinner with him Friday after work.

"He's so amazing," Cheyenne said to me the next day in Miller's Cafe, completely forgetting about our little tiff and not even mentioning my angry outburst.

"Yeah, you told me."

"He plays guitar and bass. Can you believe it?"

"No. And i couldn't believe it when you told me last night."

"We were at the restaurant for three hours."

"Uh-huh."

"You cannot believe how well you can get to know someone in just three hours. We had so much in common!"

"You want a burger or chicken?" We were holding up the line.

"Who can eat this shit?" She glanced over her shoulder at a man sitting near the entrance, shoveling salty home-cut fries into his mouth and wiping his greasy fingers over his jeans.

I ordered a plate of chicken wings for the both of us and a Dr. Pepper. Cheyenne, twittering nonstop in my ear, made a hummingbird look relaxed.

"He writes songs, you know, not just a musician."

Oh, brother.

"You know what the best part is?" she asked.

"He'll buy my dog medicine for his cold?" That flew right over her head. Cheyenne bulldozed on.

"The best part is, if everything works out on our next date, the way i hope it will, Eric will turn out to be the one."

I swung my leg over the bench and plopped down. Cheyenne sat across from me.

"You know," i said, "a three hour dinner can't really tell you much about a person." I was tempted to confess i'd spent over a week studying Tom and barley knew him at all. But Cheyenne's mind was on her possibly very real love life, not my imaginary one.

"Sometimes three hours is all you need," she said softly.

"And sometimes it isn't," I shot back.

Cheyenne just sighed. "You'll see, Kayla Roman. Before next week i will have that kiss. You'll see. I know it."

I believed her, which was the worst part. It's not that we were in competition or anything. Its just that i wanted to fall in love first. Or at least at the same time as her. This way, i was just learning to walk, and she was about to win an Olympic gold metal in track-and-field. How had this happened? My best friend, my very best friend, had zoomed so far ahead of me she was a tiny speck on my horizon.

"Hey."

"Hey!" Cheyenne leaped to her feet.

Eric and his friend Jizzy-or Izzy, or some other dumb two-syllable ending with an "zzy"-walked up to our table. Eric asked me, "How's your dog?"

"Still sick," i said. Then, in response to Jizzy/Izzy's dumbfounded look, i added, "As sick as he was yesterday."

Cheyenne said, "He'll be fine. No worries."

He will?

Eric turned to Cheyenne. "Band practice today. Do you wanna come?"

"Yes!"

I just looked at her. Nostrils flared. The way she looked at me the day before when she brought Puck home after the best "date" of her life.

"Can Kayla come, too?" she asked. Nice try, i thought.

"Yeah. Sure." Eric began to look impatient.

"You go ahead," I said, flipping my hair casually. "I have to take Puck to the vet anyway."

Cheyenne shrugged, spun on her heels, said, "Okay," and then left. Just like that. I watched her disappear across the parking lot. With Jizzy/Izzy and Eric, the guy she was gonna fall in love with.

Doesn't that just take the cake?