Chapter 3 #2
After our swim, Bryan drove us back to my parents’. “I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” he called as I got out of the Jeep. “I’ll save you a seat.”
The theme for the reunion was “A Night to Remember,” the same as our senior prom.
My neighbor Val saw the invitation on my fridge one day when she dropped off Echo.
She watched him for me whenever I had a 48 at the station.
Val—a really cool chick with a bright magenta mohawk and multiple facial piercings—noted the blue and gold colors and told me that often the invites for these things matched the event’s color scheme.
Hell if I knew, but it sounded right to me.
Tonight’s dress code called for formal wear, which I admittedly didn’t have much of these days.
I did have one really well-tailored suit.
Fittingly considering my new beachy lifestyle, my suit was a deep sand color, so I guessed that would work for the gold part.
Underneath I wore a solid light blue fitted dress shirt.
I didn’t know much about fashion—I mean, board shorts, a wetsuit, or fire station tees made up most of my daily wardrobe.
But once this cute salesgirl in a store told me blue would bring out my eyes, and I had always liked how I looked in ocean blues and greens.
I picked a patterned navy tie and solid navy pocket square, and I thought I looked pretty good, if I said so myself.
I wore my only pair of dress shoes, brown wingtips, and used some pomade to tame my wavy hair. With a fresh shave, I was ready to go.
I borrowed Mom’s SUV for the night and headed off to the reunion.
I drummed on the wheel as I drove, restless energy mixed with nerves thrumming through my system.
I hadn’t been unpopular in high school, but I wasn’t exactly a jock or an academic superstar, either.
And doesn’t everyone kind of want to impress their former classmates at a reunion, show them how great your life has become?
I knew I didn’t have a thriving tech-startup like Bryan, but I’d still do my best to project a confident, has-it-together air.
I arrived at the Villa where the reunion was hosted and checked in at the table up front, grabbing my name tag and attaching it to my lapel.
I scanned the room for Bryan and Nic and saw them at a table near the back of the event space.
Tall, lanky Bryan towered over Nic’s small 5’2” frame.
He had to be at least a foot taller than her.
Nic looked the same as in high school, her short strawberry-blonde hair and bangs adding to her wholesome girl-next-door vibes.
Her dress was a sunny yellow, and Bryan wore a matching yellow tie.
As I passed tables, my eyes searched for other familiar faces.
Then suddenly, there she was, standing next to Nic.
Long hair the color of dark chocolate. Soulful brown eyes with flecks of honey that caught the light.
My Brooke. Time seemed to freeze for a moment.
All the air left my lungs. Shaking myself from my momentary daze, I weaved through the maze of tables and approached the table where they stood.
As far as I could tell, Brooke hadn’t seen me approach, but I heard the unmistakable sound of her voice.
After all this time, hearing it again sent goosebumps up the back of my neck and nerves fluttering in my stomach.
“This is my fiancé, Brock.”
She introduced Nic to a 6 ft. tall man in a slim navy suit.
I caught a glimpse of the giant sparkling rock on her finger as she placed her hand over his chest. He didn’t wear a tie, just a crisp white dress shirt open at the neck.
He looked like he belonged on one of those popular vampire shows, with his too-slick dark hair and his flash of too-white teeth. I swallowed my immediate distaste.
Fiancé. She was getting married.
“Brooke and . . . Brock! Omigosh, that’s so cute!” Nic squealed from beside us. “Totally meant to be.”
Brooke smiled her uncomfortable smile, the one usually saved for new acquaintances and unfamiliar situations. All this attention was really not her scene anymore. Interesting. She’d been a social butterfly in high school. What had changed?
“A perfect match,” Brock agreed, flashing a winning smile at Nic.
Jesus, this guy looked like an advertisement for a dentist’s office. I tried to hold back my irrational wave of jealousy as he pulled out Brooke’s chair for her.
We took our seats around the circular table. I sat next to Bryan on my left and Amanda, another classmate, on my right. Brooke and her fiancé sat directly across the table from me. I willed her to look at me.
She looked anywhere but.
After what felt like an eternity, she finally caught my eye. Her gaze searched my face, seemingly assessing both the familiarities and the changes. I couldn’t read what emotion she was hiding, though. Is she happy to see me? I wondered. Will this be awkward, after the way we left things?
I didn’t have time to wonder for long. At that moment Stephanie, high school cheer captain and our former class president, climbed onstage and spoke into a microphone.