"Because I was nervous."
"You're nervous? You're a doctor. You probably talk to people all day long. Important people. Sick people. People whose lives depend on you being calm and collected."
"Yeah, but none of them are you." He says it so simply, like it's obvious. Like it should make perfect sense.
It doesn't make sense. Nothing about this makes sense.
"Owen." I grip my wine glass like it's a life raft. "I don't understand what's happening right now."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean—" I gesture helplessly between us. "This. You. You're talking like... like you came here just to see me. Like the reunion is just some excuse. But that's crazy because we barely knew each other and I'm just, I'm just me. I'm nobody."
His face changes. Something flashes in his eyes that might be frustration or maybe hurt, and he pulls his hand back. For a second I think he's going to leave, and panic seizes my chest.
But he doesn't leave. He sits back down, and when he speaks, his voice is a tone lower. Measured. "Can I tell you something?"
I nod, not trusting my voice.
"The invitation to this reunion showed up two weeks ago. I threw it away immediately because the idea of coming back here, of seeing everyone and doing the whole 'look how successful I am' dance, sounded like torture." He's looking down at his empty whiskey glass, tracing the rim with his finger. "Then Levi called and I told him about it. He told me you still live here. That you work at the library. That you ask about me sometimes. That, for once, I should stop being an idiot."
My face goes hot. "Levi has a big mouth."
"He does. But I'm grateful for it." Owen looks up, meeting my eyes. "Because that's when I decided to come. Not for the reunion. For the chance that maybe, possibly, I'd get to see you again."
"But why?" It comes out almost desperate. "Owen, we only talked a few times. Fifteen years ago. That's not… People don't hold onto that. People don't remember that."
"I do."
"But why?" I ask again, because I genuinely don't understand. Because in my experience, people forget me as soon as I leave the room. Because the idea that someone, that he has been remembering me all this time is so far outside my reality that I can't process it.
Owen is quiet for a long moment. Then he takes a breath, like he's making a decision. "Do you remember the fall festival our senior year?"
The question throws me. "Vaguely?"
"It was October. You came with Levi. You guys were always together. I was there with my study group because we were supposed to be taking a break from cramming for the SATs, but mostly we just ended up talking about the SATs anyway." He smiles at the memory. "You were wearing this green sweater. You had cider, and you got whipped cream on your nose, and Levi laughed at you."
I do remember that. Suddenly, vividly. The sharp autumn air, the smell of apple cider and cinnamon, Levi teasing me about the whipped cream while I tried to wipe it off with a napkin.
"I watched you guys from across the festival," Owen continues. "I kept telling myself I should go over and say hi, but I never did. I just... watched. And I remember thinking that you lookedhappy. Really happy. And that when you smiled like that, you lit up the whole festival."
My throat is tight.
"Then Mark Driscoll came up to you. Do you remember him?"
"Unfortunately." Mark Driscoll was a football player. Loud, cocky, the kind of guy who thought every girl should be grateful for his attention.
"He started hitting on you. I could tell you were uncomfortable. You kept stepping back, looking for Levi. But Levi had gone to get more cider or something. And Mark kept getting closer."
I remember this too, now that he's saying it. The way Mark had boxed me in near the apple bobbing station, the way his smile had felt predatory. I'd been terrified.
"I started walking over," Owen says. "I was going to tell him to back off. But before I got there, Levi showed up. He put himself between you and Mark, told him to get lost. Do you remember what happened next?"
I shake my head.
"Mark said something about you. Something crude. About your body." Owen's jaw tightens. "Levi punched him. Got suspended for three days. Principal wanted to kick him off the baseball team, but granddad talked them down."
"I didn't know that," I whisper. I knew about the fight, knew Levi had gotten suspended because of me, but he'd never told me what Mark said.
