Happy endings and new beginnings

For nearly an entire summer, Mrs. F and I engaged in behavior most unbecoming of best friends -- fighting over a boy.

It was the summer between sophomore and junior years of college. Our friendship had been tenuous for quite some time, and so we did what any two people who could barely stand to be in the same room with each other would do -- we decided to work and live together at a summer camp for three months.

There were 11 girls on staff, mostly single. There were six boys, mostly not. This presented a problem, specifically when Mrs. F and I simultaneously set our sights on Mr. F. (Can you tell how this story is going to end?)

For weeks, Mr. F divided his time between us. He took sunset walks on the beach with her. He gave me backrubs when I was having a bad day. He sat next to her at meals. He took me on hikes along secluded paths. The relationship between Mrs. F and I went from tense to downright hostile.

One day, Mr. F had left a sappy note for me. I came out of the kitchen to find Mrs. F rifling through my mailbox. She did not see me. She picked up the note, read it and then stormed out the back door of the dining room, slamming the door behind her. I felt both livid and superior. Later that day, I barged in on a quiet moment they were having in retaliation. Things were getting ugly.

The next week, Mr. F had two days off in a row. The first was my day off, the second, Mrs. F's. He planned elaborate daylong activities with both of us on our respective days. My date was first, and I will admit I had a poor showing. I wasn't terribly in shape at the time and, after our picnic, phase II of our date was an exceptionally long bike ride. After what seemed like forever but was probably not, I dramatically fell off my bike on to the grass and declared I could not go on. He offered to do something less strenuous. I told him to go ahead and enjoy his bike ride.

Mrs. F smirked when I came back to camp very early and very much alone, but I offered no details. The next day, she went on a multi-mile hiking biking swimming canoeing jazzercise space exploration extravaganza, after which I raised my white flag and declared her victorious. If she could keep up with him, she deserved to have him. Then we cried and hugged and rehashed everything that had torn apart our friendship in the first place. All was well in our friendship after that, and Mr. and Mrs. F have been together ever since. A week later, The Juggler, who I had been crushing on for at least six years, arrived at camp and thus began a torrid love affair that made me forget all about Mr. F. Come to think of it, he married one of my friends eventually, too. What's up with that?