'Friday' is a terrible name for the day preceding Saturday. 'Vendredi' or 'venerdi' are just as nocive to my spirit. Why can't we use names with less etymological mystique such as 'sexta-feira' or 'xingqi-wu'? I will gladly take even 'The Gathering' over whatever convoluted history brought a love deity from overseas to formulate the word 'Friday'. Especially on Fridays like this one: when I arrive ten-to-six to the tennis court, and I have to say "Hey, Evangeline, glad you were able to make it!" All while feeling like this Friday is everything except mundane.

"Hi! Thanks for inviting me, though I think I got here too early." Evangeline chuckled while greeting me. She has a hand behind her head, in a sign of nervousness, and maybe as a means of intimidation. When I inadvertently flex my bicep, there is some muscle poking. If I asked Sam to flex them using all his guts, Katie and I would be clapping like two mesmerized baby seals. But how do you explain to the commoner that there is a librarian, out here on the North East, that puts D1 athletes to shame by just scratching the back of her head?

"Nah, you're good. It's us who are always late. Did you get that book you pre-ordered?" I asked while concentrating on Evangeline's nose. "Oh my god, yes! Let me show you, I think I took picture," my boss' shoulder raising as she tap-taps through her phone; my boss' shoulder signaling extreme strength in the face of... In the face of what?

Waiting on the benches for Sam and Katie, Evangeline showed me a picture of her dog, another one of her signed copy of Katabasis book, and a third one where she's dressed up for a renaissance faire. I reciprocated by sharing pictures of the last concert I attended and many others of my corgi being a dumbass. Had this conversation taken place during my first or second day at the job, I would have turned into a walking skull in flames. The benches we are sitting on don't come Evangeline-sized. The maxed-out pro-ified phone she's holding, that doesn't come on her size either. In fact, nothing in the vicinity could have been conceived even for a moment with my boss in mind.

"If it wasn't for the upscaled chair she uses in the library..." I tell myself, before noticing Katie running towards us. "So, so sorry, guys. Sam and his time blindness, you know how it is." She is smiling at me, and probably taking the baby steps necessary to shift your gaze towards the image of Evangeline sitting on a miniature bench. Sam is trailing behind, carrying some water bottles and their bag, all while being less inconspicuous and blatantly studying my boss.

"Her nails took longer than planned" Sam excused himself on a whisper. I simply laughed and grabbed the bottles he was carrying. Katie was behind me, complimenting Evangeline's "superstar physique" and searching for a 'WHY' to the body of an almost nine-feet tall individual. I laughed even harder when my boss replied. "You know, I go swimming three times a week. It's my physician's advice." As the logical choice of strengthening one's spine at such a height came into view, and as I started to attach the label of 'DUH' to this conversation, I laughed at my own laughing. This is my Friday now, I thought.

"... And you go with Max. He always says he's good, so please bring him down from his cloud." Katie arranged the little tournament on a whim, ensuring her possible match against Evangeline be the final match, so as to bring home the fact she's a tennis pro and rapidly recovering. Or so I imagine. Had I been given a say, Sam would be the first one to face my boss. The battle of the sizes, you know. Follow the weight classes or what not. It's the idea of Evangeline flexing her bicep for real and sending my way a bullet the size of a tennis ball, that discourages me from facing her first. I almost gulped while getting into position.

The shock from the racquet was different. How many blinks could I squeeze in between bounces; that question had a different answer. Let me force you to run from here to there; that strategy seemed pointless, when the opponent can take a single stride and leave the 'here' for the 'there'. I was the one in a hurry, the one to sweat first, the one with less time to react. Evangeline was smirking after each polite grunt. I was simply grunting.

When I heard Katie shout "40-15", my fist launched itself into victory mode. My boss laughed at my excitement for the first point I made, but even if N to the power of N bosses were laughing at that moment, my fist would have remained undeterred. "If Katie reaches a 30 against her", I blurt out to myself, "I will apologize for anything I ever said."

That final volley Evangeline beat me with was pure mockery, there's no way around it. You could ask seven year old me how do giants move, and I would have acted a fool slowing myself down, taking my sweet time to inhale and exhale. My boss is no damn x0.5-speed giant. And she cries "YES!" with the volume and tone nobody in the history of tennis has heard.

As Katie's wiping the floor via her boyfriend, Evangeline tells me that it's fun to be back. Can I believe it's been almost six months since she and her husband played together? I guess I can believe it. "And sometimes people think I am crazy by asking to join, just 'cus I'm tall." My boss is exhilarated for having won a match, and is now sharing every thought she's having as it pops up. "I get what you mean, when we show up here during school, there's always those jerks that hoard the courts." I was beaten on a match by my extraordinary boss, and am now saying the things that come to mind. "No, but you don't get it! They say it's weird I want to play because I am too tall for the sport or whatever."

Maybe she took my laugh as an uncourteous jab, but I couldn't physically afford to care. "If there was too tall for anything, we wouldn't have the NBA." I patted her shoulder, standing beside her. "And Sam would be broke studying political science." Evangeline laughed with me. "Yeah, but Sam's not eight eleven..." Evangeline faltered in laughing. "I think you being eight eleven is nice. It definitely made me feel more at ease during my first week..." My mouth had raced too far ahead, and I was struggling to slow it down. "You know, if you wanna join us for tennis, we don't have height rulings." Evangeline's laugh started to morph into a grin. "I just invited her to next week's game," I silently reprimanded myself.

The score between Katie and Evangeline was 40-all for longer than I expected. I figured after seeing Evangeline can tie you if she wants, Katie would have taken a step back, and accept fate or whatever it is that this Friday is dictated by. Nonetheless, only on par with her tennis highlights, Katie turned red from exhaustion and grunted proudly like never before. Upon Evangeline's victory, no cry followed. Grunts and heavy breathing all the way down. Sam laughed at Katie. I did the same.

Lucky for me, Katie demanded Evangeline participates in the next little tournament, because Katie Gao never loses to non-D1 players. I looked at Sam as if saying "See? I would never propose such a thing." My boss looked pleased to hear Katie's request.

On her way out, Evangeline approached me. "Max, seriously, thanks for inviting me. You've got very good friends. Enjoy your weekend." Evangeline's shadow engulfed me and part of the bench. "Thanks to you for coming. Katie's very happy. Take care." I looked at my boss straight into her eyes. Unlike my shifts at the library, this afternoon, she was not wearing glasses. "Take care."

As Evangeline walked away, I realized her blue eyes were not as piercing and ruthless as I originally conceived.