Trace moped in through the door and headed into the kitchen, over to the brand new, stainless steel fridge that was made to crap out within just a few years, where he swung the door open and inspected the leftovers with a palpable sense of lassitude. Opting for nothing, he trudged toward the stairs, when he was paged from the living room. 

“Trace?” 

“Yeah, grandpa?” 

“Come on in here, boy.” 

Though in no mood to listen to his grandpa rant about whatever he would soon be ranting about, he knew he couldn’t just ignore the old coot, so, with slumped shoulders, he followed the sound of the command and flopped down on the couch, staring at the Wheel of Fortune, or whatever nonsense the old man had been formerly rapt. His grandpa muted it. 

“What’s eating at you, Trace?” 

“Nothing, Gramps.” 

“Don’t give me that. Right about now you should be scarfing down three of four peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and killing off that stew.” 

“Really, Gramps. It’s nothing,” he answered, while watching the big wheel turn from a blur into demarcated boxes with numbers in them, outlined in red and green. The contestant jumped up and down when it stopped. 

His grandfather watched him closely before speaking again, as if he could simply divine the cause of his gloom. “So who is she?” 

Before Trace could deny the implied meaning, his grandpa cut him off. “Don’t tell me no one. You think I was always the way I am now? I was your age once, and I’ll bet my ass I was a sight more adventurous than you. I can see her written all over your face.” 

There really wasn’t any way for Trace to deny it. The old man had pegged him solid. “She’s just this girl at school I’ve liked for a long time, someone who hangs out with us. Just when I thought we were gonna start something … I catch Matt up in the parking lot making out with her. I don’t get it. We were holding hands just yesterday.” 

“Matty? Our Matty?” 

“Yeah, Matty who’s been my friend since second grade … or I thought he was.” 

His grandpa laughed. He wasn’t laughing at his grandson, but more to himself and his own memory. “Trace, I’m sure you think I’m an old coot …” 

Trace was aggravated by his grandpa’s lack of tact, but he couldn’t hide the blush, knowing that’s exactly what he had been thinking. 

“… but I’m really not that old. See … with age … comes wisdom, as stupid as that may sound to you now, and I’m going to tell you something you don’t want to hear right now … Don’t ever trust your friends with women. Matty’s a dick … and he did you a favor.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Grandpa?” 

The old man laughed again, this time at his grandson. Then he launched in to the diatribe Trace had expected, but, this time, it was one he couldn’t just blow off. 

“Group hoppers.” 

“What’s that, Gramps?” 

“I’m going to get to it. So, back when I was your age, I had my group of friends too, and we had our associated pack of girls. Thing is, everyone likes to think that their friends respect them. They don’t. That’s how you know they’re your actual friends.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense ….”

His grandpa pushed down on the air in front of himself a few times, as if his hands were feet on invisible brakes. “Hold on! It will. So, with guys, there’s this unconscious … well sometimes conscious but makes no difference …. anyway there’s a rivalry, even if it’s unspoken. It’s kind of like a wolf pack, but, even if there’s a clear Alpha, he’s not really one because all the other wolves are constantly looking for ways to be the top dog. I’m guessing you told Matty you liked her?” 

“Who else would I tell?” 

“And there it is, Trace. Matty doesn’t respect you, and you don’t respect Matty. But that’s how it always is. Matty wanted what he saw that you could have … because that’s what friendship is. Sometimes it gets out of control, true, and people get into these sick situations where they don’t really care and ‘share’ everything. That’s not normal, to be honest, and that’s when you know they’re not your friends. Everyone should have their own thing, separate from the group, but people get jealous of that. It’s hard to explain, but Matty was jealous because he, in a way, wants to be like you, have what you have. He’s one-upping you, kid. Didn’t have to just be someone you like. Could have been someone you dated for years. See Trace, one of your friends was likely to try to move in first chance they got. It’s not right. It’s wrong with a good reason, and there’s not much you can do about it. Make any sense?” 

Trace thought of how he’d fantasized about stealing Kelly from Lucas. “Kind of. But how do you know that’s really true and they’re not just assholes?” 

“Would Matty fight on your side? Would he lie for you?” 

Trace thought about it and nodded. 

“And you’d do the same. But, when girls come into the picture, it’s different somehow. How do I know? Because I was never a full member of the pack. I came later, after bonds were cemented. That’s what happens when you move around a lot. I had plenty of opportunities to snake girls from my friends, even had their a few of their girls throwing themselves at me when no one else was around, but I never did it. Why? Because I didn’t want what my friends had. I wanted my own thing. I would stand up for them and all that, sure. I’m a lobo kid. As an outsider, my bonds were never deep enough for that, even though a few of them did exactly the same thing to me that Matty’s done to you, so I know how much it sucks. You just want to beat their heads in, and you would if they weren’t your friends. It seems like the ultimate betrayal, and it is on the surface. But, at the same time, it’s not. It’s something else. 

“So how did Matty do me a favor?” 

“Ah, see there’s where the group hopper comes in. So, when you have a group with its attached girls, one of those girls, or maybe more than one, is going to hop around that group, because she’s a wolf too. It’s some kind of innate desire to be a kingmaker. Now I know the TV likes to make out that it’s perfectly normal for a girl to date more than one of … or all of … the guy’s in a group, maybe it is in the primate brain, but it’s really not, not in human social circles. It’s meant to cause pain, to crush. It says she cares more about the group than anyone in it and her loyalty’s about five seconds long. That’s a born cheater, kid. Sometimes they’ll even tear the group apart just to control it, pitting friend against friend. Now I’m not saying it can never be real, but it usually isn’t. It’s just proximity and opportunism. See, Matty didn’t take this girl because he likes her. He may think he does, but he did it out of jealousy. But she did it to own the group, and that’s how Matty did you a favor. Basically, Trace, she’s not really into anyone. It’s a power trip on both sides, just for different reasons. When you find a real one, you won’t have to worry about it. You won’t have to trust your friends. You’ll be able to trust her. You’ll just know it.” 

“So what am I supposed to do about this now though?” 

“Nothing. You go on doing what you normally do, just without Matty. He’s still a dick!” the old man slapped his knee and cracked up. “Sooner or later, he’ll come around. But, if it turns out to be real, one day you’ll wake up and realize you didn’t really want her anyway because she was never really into you. Maybe, unlikely, but maybe, he’s like her, and he really did it to jam you up. Then you’ll know there’s no friendship worth saving, but a true friendship will withstand that storm one way or another.”