He was greeted by Deb, who had been the president of their class as well as the head cheerleader. He was amazed to find she’d barely aged. He wasn’t sure if it was amazing genes or remarkable plastic surgery. Probably both. He wandered toward the bar to get a drink, stopping to say hello to a couple of guys he’d known from choir.
He
turned, drink in hand and looked at the crowd. Many faces looked vaguely
familiar, like people he knew who’d been put in makeup to look older. He
wondered at how quickly 25 years had passed. And at how little those 25 years
had meant. As he said hello to former classmates, he wondered if everyone in
this room had led such safe, empty lives. He’d lived a good life. He’d made
lots of money. He didn’t love his wife, but they were friends. Well, sort of.
He treated her well and she reciprocated. He gave to charity. He went to
church.
Before
he could ask himself the question he wanted to avoid, his mind was brought to a
halt. There she was, seemingly having been frozen in time. Her eyes still
sparkled. Her smile still took his breath away. Even her signature ponytail was
still there. The only addition was the ruggedly handsome man at her side, his
hand on the small of her back. He was taller than she and they were clearly a
couple. She nuzzled back against his chest and they shared a smiling whisper
followed by a gentle kiss. But then, to his great surprise, she locked eyes
with him. She smiled even more broadly and waved. He shyly waved back. She
leaned in and whispered something to her husband. He smiled and nodded. They
made their way across the ever-more-crowded dance floor to the bar.
“Evan,”
she said, hugging him warmly. “I’m so glad you came. I was excited when Deb
told me your reply card came in.”
“Me
too. Thanks. And who’s this handsome guy?”
“Evan,
this is my husband Derek. Derek, one of my oldest and dearest friends, Evan
Wilson.”
“Glad
to finally meet you, Evan,” said her husband. “Renee talks about you all the
time.”
“Wow,
really? Even after all these years? What’s to talk about?”
“Oh,
it’s always some funny comment you made in class or some goofy thing you did on
senior day or how you were always such a good friend.”
Evan
was genuinely gob smacked. He had no idea he’d had such an impact on anyone’s
life, much less hers. He was, as he’d seemingly been when around her all
through school, rendered speechless. Finally, he managed something feeble about
being the class clown.
“Well,
we’re going to have a dance,” said Renee. “Save one for me, Evan?”
“Sure.”
And
with that, they were on the dance floor. It was a disco song that had been big
when they graduated, but they deftly did some ballroom dance, the name of which
escaped him. She was light on her feet and they moved effortlessly together.
They were synchronized. They were happy. He was hollow.
Not
really a drinker, he uncharacteristically ordered a second martini and found a
table in a quiet corner, away from the crowd. The first had tasted like
gasoline, but he was getting used to it. He found if he sipped and swallowed
quickly, it wasn’t so bad. As he managed to put away the last few drops and put
his glass on the table, he looked around. He wasn’t drunk, but the room was
taking on a shimmer.
A
slow song started. “Well,” said Renee, who had somehow magically appeared by
his side. “How about that dance?” She held out her hand. He automatically took
it, following her to the dance floor. She put her hands around his neck. As he
placed his hands on her waist, he wondered how long a human being could survive
without oxygen.
“So,”
she said, “how’ve you been?”
“Okay.
You look happy.”
“Yes.
Derek’s great. My kids are great.”
She
had kids. He’d always wanted kids, but he and his wife just never seemed to get
around to it. “How old?”
“Derek
Junior is twelve, Camille is nine.”
“Boy
and a girl. Matched set.”
“They
fight like cats and dogs, but they love each other.”
“That’s
great.”
They
danced a little in silence. He had nothing to tell her about his life. “Where’d
you meet Derek?” he finally asked.
“Can
I make a confession?”
“Okay?”
“I’ve
just always felt like I need to tell you this for some reason. I’m not sure
why.”
He
wondered what she could possibly need to confess, but he nodded to let her know
it was okay to go on.
“I
had the biggest crush on you all through junior high and high school. I always
hoped you’d ask me out. I had a feeling you liked me too, but I was too shy to
say anything.”
His
brain swirled; his stomach lurched. She—she, had liked him?! Between the
alcohol and the sheer shock, he was pretty sure he was going to pass out.
“Evan?
Evan? Are you okay?”
Her
face grew fuzzy and disappeared, only to be replaced by that of Mr. Beck. What
was Mr. Beck doing here? And where was here? It looked familiar, like a place
he’d been a million times, but long, long ago.
“You
really need to give her that present.”
He
looked around. It was eighth grade. Fourth period had just ended. He could
still hear the echo of her lilting laughter fading down the corridor.
“Renee!”
he shouted, bolting out the door, gift in hand. She turned when she heard him
call out, her face puzzled, but congenial. A smile danced across her lips as
she saw the gift he held out in front of him.
“Wait! I have something for you. And—and I
need to ask you a question.”
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