“Because when we got the invitations, you said, ‘What the hell, let’s go and see what everyone looks like.’”
She huffed at me as we navigated through the long hallways, past all the gowns and suits from the different parties that were being held here tonight, and followed the signs to the St. Kate’s twentieth high school reunion.
“You couldn’t have pointed out what a bad idea it was?”
“I believe I said, ‘Really, you want to go?’” I tapped my chin. “And you said, ‘Sure, it’s just one night.’”
“As my best friend, you’re supposed to shut me down when I suggest stupid things like this. This sad night is all your fault.”
“Well, we’re here now. May as well make the best of it,” I said, studying the men in front of us. From a quick glimpse of their profiles, I had no clue who they were. Granted, I hadn’t seen anyone from high school in a long time, but I’d figured whoever we’d run into tonight would at least look a little familiar.
“Maybe if they didn’t have it in the same place as our prom. There’s such a thing as too much nostalgia. And who the hell arethey?” she whispered and jutted her chin to the men now signing in. “Did they even go here?”
“Why would you sneak into someone else’s high school reunion?” I told her while still scrutinizing their faces.
Yep, no clue who they were—then or now.
“Easy hookup. Make up memories and then have a one-nighter for fake old times’ sake,” Sabrina said as she watched the tallest one stride into the reunion room. “I could pretend I knew him from high school if he wanted me to.”
“That sounded like a very thought-out answer.”
“It has to be better than swiping on the app, and hooking up now with someone from high school means no pesky aftermath. No rumors at school on Monday about what we did or didn’t do. Could be fun.” Sabrina tapped my arm as her gaze followed our possibly fake former classmates.
“Having the same boyfriend for all four years limited my high school experience, I guess,” I mused as I scanned the registration table for our place cards.
“I told you that a million times, but you never listened to me. It was all Jesse, all the time.” She pressed a dramatic hand to her chest.
“I was young and stupid and in love. I didn’t listen to anyone else either.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Sabrina said, leaning over me to snatch one of the table cards. “This boring night may have just gotten interesting.” She turned it around to show me the name. “Speaking of, check this out.”
Jesse Evans.The name of the boy I’d loved for four straight years. The one who’d taken all my firsts and thrown them back at me when he’d ripped my heart to shreds only two weeks after graduation.
I slipped it out of her fingers, staring at the smeared blue cursive for a long minute before putting it back on the table.
“He’s here. So what? He graduated with us, so this isn’t a plot twist.”
“But the last time we snooped for old classmates on Facebook, he was living in Seattle, remember? I can’t see anyone flying in for this thing—” she grimaced as her eyes darted around the room “—so he must be back. Or within drivable distance anyway.”
“I flew in for my college reunion, mostly because I didn’t want to make the long drive, but a lot of my friends came in from all over the country. I’m sure people do that for high school reunions too.”
Like Sabrina, I’d thought—and hoped—Jesse wouldn’t be here since he’d lived across the country. I’d managed to forget about him possibly showing up until my stomach plummeted at the sight of his name.
“And if he’s here, he’s here. It’s not like we’re anything to each other anymore.”
Even though I’d fought hard to push him out of my consciousness back then, his memory now crystallized all too easily and quickly in my brain. The big, dark eyes against his olive skin, the long lashes a boy shouldn’t have had the right to have, and the broad shoulders that always made my heart kick up when I’d noticed him from the back in the hallways.
“But you’re still pissed at him.”
I finally spotted our names and scooped up our place cards.
“Why would I be pissed? It was twenty years ago.” I stuffed Sabrina’s card into her palm. “We’re at table seven. Let’s get settled and find the open bar.”
I scanned the room, spotting the number 7 at the table right in front of the bar.
“Now, this is good placement,” Sabrina said, tossing her purse onto the table and shrugging off her light jacket. “Andbroken hearts don’t have time limits. It’s understandable to be nervous about seeing him again.”
“I’m not nervous. I’m…uneasy.” I lifted a shoulder and took the seat next to Sabrina. “And it’s stupid to beuneasyabout seeing my high school boyfriend.”
