I have two best friends, two very political friends. And the reason I mention that detail is because for whatever reason neither of them can put their views to the side and try to get along for two freaking seconds. The result is a game of tug-of-war where I’m the rope and they’re both yanking me to come on their side. My arms are bruised purple.

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If you want to know what it’s like to be me, imagine this. Imagine walking on a tight rope that’s held between two tall mountains that are high enough up that death is highly probable. I’m constantly having to walk in that tight space; I have to watch what I say and limit my words so neither friend gets mad at me. It’s honestly tiring. To get them to agree, I’d do almost anything. Even dye my hair or get a tattoo which are two things that have never once been on any sort of bucket list written by me.

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Sarah is my friend who fights for women’s rights and I love her to death because of it, and my friend Caroline is far on the other side who values tradition and I think she has valid points too. It’s gotten so whenever I hang out with one of them, I can’t bring the other along anymore. Not since Galantines’ Day last year where they both yelled so loud that Sarah’s cat ran outside, hopped on a tree and jumped almost 80 feet on the ground; AND the neighbors thought we were being robbed. Seriously. The cops pulled up and everything.

 

The reason I can’t get my mind to stop complaining about Sarah and Caroline is because I now have a boyfriend who is in the middle like me, and Sarah wants to meet him. And there’s no fancy way to admit that I’m terrified out of my mind. I’m in the middle and I lean liberal, and my boyfriend is in the middle and leans conservative. Sarah likes me because we could go on and on about how we’re going to be mental health advocates in the near future, but the second she finds out he’s conservative, she’s literally going to flip.

 

Sometimes I feel like she has a sixth sense, like with one look she can somehow tell where someone leans on the political spectrum.

 

Crap, that’s another piece of information I have to avoid, is when Sarah asks what his major is. The second he says he’s studying business, she’ll assume he’s a white conservative male and he’ll be out of the running for guys-Addy-dates-that-Sarah-approves-of-for-now. 

 

Literally, this is the world now:

 

“What’s your boyfriend’s name?”

 

“Andrew.”

 

“What??? You can’t date an Andrew!” The horror!

 

My boyfriend’s name isn’t Andrew, just using it as an example.

 

It’s crazy how the second someone knows where you lean, how they can judge you without knowing anything about your background or anything else about you. The way I see it, everyone is entitled to their own viewpoints, and I don’t see what’s so wrong with that.

 

Most people’s minds go crazy with all the what ifs at night which is why insomnia is a thing. But I’m different. My mind goes off when I’m introducing my someone to Sarah. I tell myself over and over again not to let politics enter conversation. And if Sarah tries to bring it up, I don’t care how much of a fool I make of myself, I am going to do everything in my power to shift the conversation elsewhere.

 

She is in love with her cat, like the cute little furball is her soulmate for life, and sometimes I want to tell her, “You don’t know what your cat’s political leaning is and you still love him,” but I keep my mouth shut. I’ve gotten really good at keeping my mouth shut.

 

I’m in the car now driving my boyfriend to Sarah’s apartment. And do I tell him everything floating around in my mind right now? Absolutely frickin not. The last thing I need to do is scare him. He hates politics like me, and if I lose him, then I’m basically a worm surrounded by crows.

 

Not that it’s important at all, but my boyfriend and I have been together for five years now. And Sarah isn’t meeting him until now . . .

 

Right now we’re driving through the classic Michigan weather: rain, sun, and snow all at once. I only hit one curb, and I fully blame the big apartment sign out front blocking my view. There are a bunch of different sections; Sarah lives in the C section where there’s a car in almost every spot.

 

I park the car after three and a half minutes of searching for a space, and AJ, my boyfriend, teases me about it all the way until we get to Sarah’s door; I knock on it. “You do realize you can’t parallel park out there right?” he teases, “Those are vertical spaces.”

 

“Haha very funny. I told you you could drive.”

 

“Like I wanna drive someplace where I don’t know where I’m going.”

 

“Fair enough.”

 

Sarah takes a while to open the door, and I feel my chest pound every second that passes by as AJ starts asking about her. “So you and Sarah, you guys went to school together?”

 

AJ and I are both 24, just graduated from Michigan State University which is only about ten minutes away from here. Sarah lives at The Hamptons; she decided to stay at MSU for grad school. She couldn’t escape like me. There’s a welcome mat right outside her door and I know it wasn’t her idea to buy it; pretty much the entire hall looks the exact same.

 

“Yeah, her and I met my freshman year in English class. She was that outgoing girl who started talking to me right off the bat. She started telling me about all the books she’s published and I told her about how many books I haven’t published, and it was friends at first sight.”

 

He laughs, and it’s one of the many reasons why I love him so much. He knows how to actually listen, even with the horrific scent of weed distracting him. When he laughs, it isn’t one of those laughs like ‘crap, I’m only laughing because I didn’t hear what you said and don’t want you to find out I wasn’t paying attention.' It was a genuine laugh; he’s always wanting to know every part of my life, unlike my older cousin who unfortunately has been in a three year relationship and still has yet to meet her significant other’s family. I’m not a secret to anyone in his life, and after he meets Sarah, everyone in my life will officially know about him too. I wish I could say I was excited, but it’s more like ripping off a Band-Aid I know won’t come off on its own.

 

“Why you telling him lies?” Sarah hollers as she opens the door, startling both of us. She is so loud, but quiet people like me need those kind of friends to get us out of our comfort zone. “You’re the better writer here, not me! But thanks for making me look good.”

 

She goes to shake AJ’s hand when he isn’t prepared, and it turns into an awkward smack on the shoulder. “I’m Sarah,” she introduces.

 

“Hi, nice to meet you, I’m AJ,” he responds like a robot. Luckily he gets comfortable fast, and the robot part of him is just a phase. I have no place to talk. When I met my first boyfriend’s friends a long time ago, I did everything wrong, including accidentally belch in one of their faces. And I never belch. Literally anything bad can happen when you’re nervous enough.

 

AJ runs his hands through his hair and all I can think about is if it comes across as arrogant and dominating to Sarah. Does it??

 

“So,” Sarah teases me while welcoming us into her tiny little living room area, “Addy, are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend or just have him awkwardly follow you around all night?”

 

“That sounds oddly specific,” AJ points out. And again, I wonder if his words aren’t sweet enough, and if they make him sound inconsiderate and emotionally unavailable.

 

“Yeah we don’t talk about it,” Sarah jokes. Her cat chases her everywhere she goes, and it’s so cute. He’s like her little shadow. His eyes bug out and make him look like a Halloween character; he’s grey and very average weight compared to the number of overweight cats that I’ve seen in my lifetime.

 

We sit down on the couch, and AJ puts his arms over me, and all I can do is panic that now Sarah is gonna think he’s marking his territory. She’s gonna think that he’s only touching me to let the whole room know that I’m his and only his.

 

Sarah sits next to us on the couch and props her feet, using the coffee table as a footrest. She never does that. Why is she doing it now? She looks over at us, and I can only see half her face because AJ’s arm is so thick.

 

“So I’ll do my part and introduce him I guess. This is AJ. His parents named him that so they could name him after Andrew Jackson without people knowing.” I always include unnecessarily details when I’m nervous. I think it’s ironic that Andrew Jackson was part of the Democratic-Republican party at a certain time.

 

“That’s it?” Sarah teases again.

 

AJ takes over for me. Does Sarah think he’s dominating me and interrupting me? That’s what my last ex did, and I never picked up on it. “I, ah, just graduated. Now I gotta find a job in finance. I’m thinking financial planner or something like that. I met Addy in an English class and she basically is the reason how I passed.”

 

It’s over. It’s totally over. Sarah is going to think he doesn’t take school seriously or me seriously. The business major is bad enough, but now she’s going to see him as a dumb jock.

 

She’s thinking, and I can’t hold it inside anymore. “Before you say anything, not all business majors are bad. And okay, he’s not Democrat. Is that so bad?”

 

I wait for Sarah to cross her arms, but she doesn't. Instead, she starts cracking up laughing. “You’re my friend. I don’t care about that stuff when it comes to boyfriends. AJ seems nice so I won’t hold it against him this time.” She smiles at him. “You gotta stop worrying so much.”

 

“But you hated the last guy.”

 

“Because political affiliation aside, he was a plain asshole.”

 

“Man,” AJ jokes, “I need to get me a friend like you.”

 

“Haha, I like him even more,” she says to me.

 

She goes to grab us cookies from in her kitchen, and we play Mario Kart for the next hour and a half.

 

Somehow by the end of the game, after I win three rounds in a row, she likes AJ more than she likes me.

 

She hits me with three red shells in a row.

 

THE NERVE.

 

Laughing, I throw one back at her.

 

AJ joins in.

 

It’s not completely perfect. Sarah doesn’t pick up the phone and dial Caroline’s number.

 

But it’s progress.  

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