High School Reunion
By Megan E. Bean
Published by JMS Books LLC
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2019 Megan E Bean
ISBN 9781634868983
Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com
Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
All rights reserved.
WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
* * * *
High School Reunion
By Megan E Bean
Tonight was our ten-year high school reunion. It was also the first time I’d stepped foot in Indiana since I moved away at the age of eighteen. I wasn’t close with my family, though they had flown out to see me occasionally.
My friends and family loved Indiana—hardly any of them had even left the county, let alone moved away from it.
I heard the class clown, Jared, shouting across the room at one of his buddies. His chiseled figure had bloated up a bit. He barely fit into that letterman jacket he still wore. Clinging to his arm was Lacie—the queen bee of Union County High School. She once resembled Britney Spears. She picked on me relentlessly in high school, as I stuck out like a sore thumb. I had dyed my hair in crazy colors, wore band T-shirts, and had piercings. Now she wore sweatpants and a tank top. She wasn’t even trying anymore. If I wanted to be bitter, I could say that I got the last laugh.
I was sitting at one of the fold-out tables that our school had set up for us. We were in the school gymnasium and I rolled my eyes at how cheap our school continued to be.
“Oh my God, is that Keith?” Bertha, my high school best friend, asked. I don’t know why her mother named her Bertha, of all things. The funny part is, her siblings had plain, ordinary names.
I followed her gaze and saw Keith. My jaw dropped. The kid that was once a scrawny, glasses-wearing, never-had-a-drink, virgin nerd, was now…hot. He wasn’t exactly ripped, but he had filled out. He finally won the battle that was him growing a beard. He still had glasses, but he finally had frames that fit his face.
“Holy shit! Keith!” I called out to him, despite the bashful protests from my friend.
He looked over and us and a smile grew on his face as he made his way over.
“Elizabeth! Ber! How have you guys been?” He grabbed a chair and sat down, scooting in close to us. I noticed Bertha’s face grow flush.
“We have been great. Better question—what have you been up to? You’re all Clark Kent.”
“Oh gosh,” he chuckled and glanced down. It was always a nervous habit of his. “Well, I’ve got a few online companies. I just got back from China, actually.”
“Oh wow! How was it?” The brunette had broken out of her shell. Talk of travel always did. She yearned to get out of the States. She was one of the few from Union County who had left Indiana.
The thought of China bored me and I zoned out as they rambled on. Don’t get me wrong—I was happy to see this little matchmaking session, but international travel never interested me.
“I’m going to go grab a drink, do you guys want anything?” I politely interrupted and they both shook their heads before continuing their conversation.
I made my way over to the cloth-covered table that had a terribly clichéd punch bowl in the middle of it.
“Liz! What’s up?” I heard a belligerent voice behind me and a grin made its way to my face when I saw who it was.
“John! No way. What’s up, dude?” I gave him a big hug. He was my partner in crime back in the day. I still remember the time we ran naked from the cops on a dare. To try and ditch them, we ran into an alley that had hundreds of thorn bushes. Our bodies were cut up, but we went back to the house and drowned our pain with Canadian whiskey.
“I was hoping you would be here. Ms. Hot Shot, too-good-for-Indy,” he joked and I slapped his arm.
“Oh, shut up. You know I just hate these cornfields. It’s nothing personal.” I matched his grin and we spent awhile catching up. He was now a tattoo artist, which was amazing. I remember at our parties he used to spend hours drawing and ignoring everyone whenever they told him to battle them in Guitar Hero. They all wanted a shot at the master. He tried teaching me how to play, but I could never get past playing on Easy. The extra button threw me off.
I was even more surprised to realize that he was married. I had missed so much.
His wife joined us and introduced herself. She was an artist, as well, but she hadn’t made it big yet. She was working full-time at PetSmart. They had a family of exotic snakes and lizards. They also had a dog named Dave Mustaine. I was so happy that he had finally found love. In high school, he was in love with the idea of us being together. I was in love with the idea of being with his sister.
I went back over to my table, where Bertha and Keith were still talking. I think I saw hearts in her eyes.
“What are you lovebirds talking about?” I laughed to myself when Bertha’s face turned white.
“We were talking about who all peaked in high school,” Keith said and pointed at the stage in the gymnasium where the old football players and cheerleaders were hanging out. None of them had aged well, it seemed. Was I a bad person for laughing about it? They’d all been jerks in high school, so I decided that I wasn’t.
“So, who is making the reunion speech or whatever?” I paused before continuing, “Wait, is that a thing?”
Bertha laughed and answered, “Well, the student council president is in charge of that…” She trailed off, leaving me to put the pieces together. She chuckled as what I’m assuming was a look of terror came over my face. The student council president. A.K.A. my ex-girlfriend.
“Oh God, so she is going to be here?”
“Word on the street is, she’s dedicating the speech to you.” The brunette burst out into laughter and I shot her a death glare.
“Real funny,” I smirked. She hadn’t changed a bit, thank God.
As if on cue there she was, walking onto the stage. My breath caught in my throat. She had aged like a fine wine.
“Hey, guys. Thank you all for coming here tonight.” I barely heard her words over the drunken cheers. “Okay, yes, we are all excited.” She smiled, but seemed slightly annoyed. “I wanted to toast all of you. Especially the ones who took time out of their schedules and flew in to be here.” Loud clapping overtook the room and she fought to get the crowd back. “Okay, okay. Anyways, just letting you know, we will be having a bonfire out by the field in about an hour. Go Vikings!” She still had a great smile. And a great body. She still had her long, brown curls. Her eyes were so bright blue that I could make out their color from my seat. Was she married?
I looked at her left hand and saw no ring. Good. Wait, why was that good? Why did I care?
I got another look at her face before she
exited the stage. Her eyes caught mine and she hesitated for a moment or two. It seemed like forever. Did she forgive me? Did she miss me?
* * * *
Veronica’s and my relationship started at one of the football games at our high school. The loud cheers, the bright lights, kids sneaking beer in, our football team never scoring any points. Why did I go to those again? Oh right—the beer.
My friends and I would make our rounds, bouncing from group to group. We thought we were so smooth hiding our beer in soda cans. Never mind the leftover soda in the cans and how much beer we spilled trying to pour it in.
We never paid attention to the game. There was no point to it—we lost every single game. But that didn’t matter. The high school football games were the most exciting thing to happen in our small town. Some liked to go there to show their support for the Patriots. Some went for the social aspect. Others went to show off their skimpy outfits that weren’t allowed during school hours, the old timers came to relive their glory days. Regardless of the reason, the whole town came.
We would sit on the top row on the bleachers. Bertha, John, Keith, Lindsay, Cheryl, and eventually Veronica. She was the most recent to join the group, and it took her awhile to find her footing. She played volleyball with Lindsay and they became best friends. I would like to say that we welcomed her with open arms, but we were a bit apprehensive at first. She didn’t drink like us. In fact, she didn’t drink at all. She was a straight A student. She was student council president. We were a bunch of punks.
But she tried. She even had some sips of beer. She hated the way it tasted and I laughed at the face that she made. Each weekend, she and I sat closer and closer together. Soon, we were attached at the hip. I learned that she had a dry, sarcastic sense of humor like me. We watched the same TV shows. I remember the first time we said the same sentence at the same time.
One of our players dropped the football and tripped over it. “What the fuck was that?” we both exclaimed.
“You know how to cuss?” I exclaimed and burst out laughing. She slapped me in the chest, and I don’t know why, but I found it very endearing. That was the first moment her eyes caught mine and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from her. Her laughter came to a stop whenever she noticed me staring at her.
“What?” she asked, softly. I wondered if she felt it, too. I shook my head because I was at a loss for words. My gaze moved between her pink lips and her blue eyes. I thought about leaning in to kiss her, but I knew it was a crazy idea. My stomach fluttered when I saw her glance at my lips, as well.
I made up my mind and slowly leaned in to kiss her.
“Did you see that jackass?!” John practically screamed in my ear and broke the trance I was in.
“Yeah, I did.” I faced him and said it a little more rudely than I intended. He was so drunk that he didn’t notice. When I looked back at Veronica, she was watching the game again. Her trance—our trance, was definitely over.
* * * *
The following week, I couldn’t stop thinking about our upcoming game. Luckily it was another home game. I didn’t know why I was obsessing about seeing her again. Sure, we went to the same school, but we were never able to see each other during school hours. Weekends were my only option. I also didn’t know why I was obsessing about her. Sure, she was smoking hot, but I had never really thought of her in the way I did the weekend before.
When Friday came around, I was happy to see that she was in the bleachers next to Lindsay when I arrived. She was wearing a thick black sweater and jeans—looking amazing, as always. I casually sat next to her and she smiled at me, continuing her conversation with our friends. She shifted slightly to where she was closer to me. Had she been thinking about this night all week, too?
I studied her face but couldn’t get a read on her.
“Hi,” she simply said to me once her conversation was done.
“Hi.” I couldn’t help the grin on my face. I had missed this small, weird thing we had going on.
“You missed a lot,” she said and pointed at the scoreboard. Nil-Nil.
“Oh man, I bet it’s been a nail biter, huh?”
“Uh huh. Very stressful.” She had a serious look on her face, but I could see a smirk pulling at her lips.
I don’t know how it happened, but soon we were sitting so close that her leg was glued to me, and her boot-covered foot was on top of mine. I remember thinking that it was so intimate, and also thinking that I was silly for thinking that.
“It’s so cold, I should have brought a jacket.” She had her arms crossed, keeping herself warm.
“Here, take my jacket.” I instinctively peeled off my jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She started to protest, which I shushed her for. Her bright smile turned me to mush. My hands lingered a little too long on her arms, which I apologized for. It was then her turn to shush me.
“Hey, do you wanna go get a Slushee with me at the concessions?”
I nodded, and our friends placed their orders with us.
We squeezed by the drunken students, parents, and people we had never seen before. She went to the left, which was the opposite way of the stands. She grabbed my hand and pulled me through the narrow pathway between two rows of bleachers.
“What the heck are we doing?” I laughed a little, thinking she was disoriented.
“Shut up,” she said breathily, spinning around to face me. Her hands were soon on each side of my face and she pulled me into her. Her lips were softer and tasted sweeter than I could have ever imagined. We kissed hungrily for what seemed like hours, but I know that I am exaggerating. Her body pressed mine against the cold steel and my hands roamed all over her back, clinging to her.
We only separated whenever a loud whistle came from the field, jarring us back to reality. We stood there, foreheads pressed together, panting and staring into each other’s eyes.
* * * *
And here we were now—stealing small glances at each other and looking away as just quickly. I wondered if she was reliving our moments like I was.
“So how is life in New Mexico?” another one of my old friends asked me. This was at least the tenth time that I’d been asked this question. It was annoying, but I couldn’t blame them for asking. Aside from a few children and being promoted at the same jobs they had since 2010, nothing had changed in our small town.
“Oh, it’s really cool. I visit Arizona a lot for my job and I’m thinking of moving there soon,” I absentmindedly replied.
“Like, the desert? How hot does it get there?” Cheryl’s eyes were wide. I inwardly chuckled at how intrigued she was.
“Well, I mean, it gets pretty hot, but it’s a dry heat, so it’s not so bad. When I visit Phoenix, it gets up to like 115 degrees.”
“Holy shit! How do you survive there?” She took another swig of her beer. She hadn’t changed much. She was still drinking Natural Light, she still pulled her hair back in a tight ponytail, she was dressed in a floral sundress. She had packed on a few pounds, but she had two beautiful babies with her high school sweetheart, Kris.
Our conversation was interrupted by the announcement from Tom Cooper, our principal, that the bonfire would start in a few minutes and to feel free to head outside. I was surprised that he was still the principal. He had been at the school for over thirty years now. There was a rumor in high school that he was an alcoholic, and seeing him now, our suspicions seemed confirmed. He had liver spots all over his body and he was almost shriveled up. He had not aged well, but I commended him for his will to stay at the school. He was a sweet man, despite his flaws.
Once, my friend and I had skipped class one too many times. He sat us down in his office and gave us a two-for-one deal for our detentions. What should have resulted in suspension, he let us go easy, because we were ‘good kids’.
“Come on!” Bertha came up to me, out of nowhere it seemed. She grabbed one of my hands and put a fresh drink in the other one. We made our way through the off-white hallways. It’s weir
d how a smell can seem so familiar and take you back to a specific time in your past. The smells in these hallways didn’t change one bit over the years. The Patriot mural that we had painted our senior year now had chips in it.
As we pushed through the double doors to the football field, a cold wind beat against me. I wrapped my coat tighter around me. I noticed that everyone else had T-shirts and jeans on. I was not used to this chilly weather anymore. John made fun of me for my attire and I shoved him, almost making him fall over.
“Loser!” I taunted him and took off running as he got back on his feet and headed after me.
“Get back here, you desert sissy!” he roared jokingly, following my giggles.
We ran through the crowd, him barely grazing my jacket. I squealed and pushed through the big men to my left. “Sorry!”
I heard my friends’ laughter behind me and I looked back—they were close. This was more fun than I had had in a while. It took me back to whenever we would all goof around and act like kids, even though we were high schoolers and ‘too old for that stuff.’ We never cared.
Oof! I was so focused on out running my buddies, that I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and ran straight into someone. I fell to the ground and apologized immediately. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” I gathered my body up from the dirt and dusted myself off. When I didn’t hear a response, I looked over to my victim. My blood froze. I was face-to-face with her.
* * * *
“Is what we are doing crazy?” the brunette beauty whispered against my neck. We had been secretly dating for weeks. I wouldn’t let her tarnish her image. She had the picture-perfect family and life. I didn’t fit into that picture. And what we had wasn’t serious. It wasn’t worth losing her family and friends over.
“What do you mean?” I ran my fingers through her curls and trailing down, along her jawline. Her porcelain skin was so soft.
“I mean…everything.” She propped herself up on my chest and planted a gentle kiss on my lips before continuing. “Dating. Hiding it. I don’t know.”
High School Reunion Page 1