I was a walking, shaking, hyperventilating cautionary tale as to why. I knew that Leo didn’t understand. I knew that Nonna didn’t understand. I knew that no one could understand.
Maddox was more than just my first crush, my first love, my first boyfriend, and my first time. He was my first everything.
I took a deep breath as I headed out of the room and tried to gain some perspective. It had beentwenty yearssince I’d seen him. Since the night we took each other’s virginities. There was a very good chance that I’d built up our connection, our relationship, our love into something that it wasn’t.
As I stepped onto the elevator, my phone buzzed. I pulled it out and saw that it was from Trent.
Trent:Didn’t make the flight. I’ll call you when I get home.
Trent and I had been in a situationship for a decade. He was in Seattle on a work trip and when he heard that I was going to spend the weekend in Napa had said he would fly down to attend this reunion with me. Now, apparently, that wasn’t going to happen.
I stared at the message. I was used to him canceling things. After ten years, it didn’t come as a surprise.
What did surprise me was how numb I was to it. For years I would feel disappointment, anger, sadness. I never said any of those things because I have always had trouble expressing myself and would rather have a root canal without anesthesia than have a confrontation. My therapist says it stemmed from growing up in a house where my opinion, my feelings, my emotions were not just ignored, they were punished. If my father thought I had an attitude or my face wasn’t right, if I was lucky I was sent to my room, got a privilege taken away, or had to do extra chores. If I was unlucky, I was spanked, with a belt, a hand, or a spoon.
I learned at a very young age to keep my expression neutral, and my mouth shut.
When my phone buzzed in my hand I jumped in start, my mind was a million miles away. I looked down and saw that Leo was calling. I knew that he would want an update on all things reunion. Unfortunately, I didn’t have one to give him since I hadn’t even made it to the event.
Leo was one of a handful of people whose call I would never ignore. Tonight, he was going to voicemail. I didn’t need him to lecture me on my anti-social behavior. I didn’t even want to be here tonight.
Then why are you?I asked myself, even though I already knew the answer.
It wasn’t because Nonna had guilt-tripped me and besides not being able to express myself and hating confrontation I was also an Olympic Gold Medal winning people pleaser. The reason I was here was because I wanted word to get back to Maddox. I wanted him to hear that I looked amazing. I wanted him to remember me.
Which was ridiculous considering nothing could ever happen between us. Ever. My actions had made certain of that. And I wasn’t just referring to slipping out of his bed and leaving the country without a goodbye. That he might be able to forgive. I was young.
But what happened after…he would never forgive me. He would hate me if he knew. Which was why there could never be anything between us.
My phone buzzed again, and I looked down to see a text from Leo.
Leo:I hope that you are drunk, having wild reunion sex, and not still in your room.
I sighed. He knew me too well.
I texted back.
Me:Leaving now.
I’d barely sent it when a message came through.
Leo:I knew it!
I stepped out of my room and headed toward the elevator. As I got on, a man who looked vaguely familiar stepped on as well. His balding head shined beneath the florescent lights and his cologne was so strong I choked on it.
Out of my peripheral vision I saw he did a double take and I stared straight ahead. I had no clue if he was one of my old classmates or just a middle-aged guy at the hotel, and I had no desire to find out.
“Are you…Peyton Russo?”
I turned my head and smiled. “I am.”
I stared into eyes, that like his appearance looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t pinpoint it.
“Johnny Wilson. Brett’s brother.”
“Brett Wilson.” That was a name I hadn’t heard in a long time. The Wilsons had lived next door to Nonna, and Brett was my age. Growing up, I spent summers with her before I moved in with her for what was supposed to be my junior and senior years, but what ended up being only six months of my junior year. And the last summer before I moved in with her, Brett and I hung out. Even kissed once.
He was a nice guy. Forgettable, but nice.
