by Emma Nichols
“Oh, right.” Alice nodded knowingly. “Was Mia in that group of mean girls?”
I gnawed on my cheek a moment before nodding slowly. “She was. And I thought I might get to be his girlfriend, but suddenly they made up and he practically shunned me.” My shoulders slumped. “I’ve been preparing for this reunion almost since graduation. Sure, I wanted to be successful for me, but mostly I wanted to be able to shove it in everyone’s face. I wanted them to see that I was somebody. I wanted Jordan to…” I sniffled and looked away, unable to meet Alice’s gaze.
“You wanted him to want you.” She reached out and patted my hand with her wrinkled gnarled one. “It makes perfect sense.”
“Why am I even going? Oh, my word, I feel so stupid.” I swiped at my eyes.
“Don’t go for him. Go for you. Go to rekindle your friendships. They’ll get you farther in this life than any man, I promise.” Her brow arched and I could sense a story there.
“Tell me,” I murmured shyly. “Tell me something that’s going to get me through this weekend.”
Alice smiled. “Women didn’t always have all the rights you do now. You have no idea how strong and powerful you are, everything you can accomplish. And you don’t need a man to do any of it.”
Jordan
* * *
Even in first class, the flight from Jacksonville to Pittsburgh felt long. The moment we landed, and I made my way to the baggage claim, I felt impending doom. This was a huge mistake. I hadn’t made it more than ten feet before I ran into one of my old classmates.
There was Irving. I’d have recognized him anywhere. He looked exactly the same, maybe taller. He still had the baby face I remembered. We’d teased him in the locker room about how he couldn’t even grow a proper mustache as evidenced by our No Shave November experiment. The kid had always been so into his video games, I doubt he even cared what we thought. Still, I was curious about how the guy was spending this time these days. My guess…living in his mother’s basement, doing absolutely nothing with his life.
“Hey, Irv.” I forced a smile as I moved to stand near him in the crowded baggage claim.
He glanced up at me and squinted. “Do I know you?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
I nodded, but I was seriously surprised he didn’t remember me. “Jordan Mitchell. We graduated together.” I crossed my arms over my body and stared down at him. “What brings you here?”
“Plane.” Irv snickered at his own joke. “I just arrived from San Francisco.”
“Oh, vacation?” My brows rose in interest.
He snorted. “No, I’ve worked in Silicon Valley for years.”
“Programmer.” I nodded like I understood completely.
“Actually, I own a tech company.” Then he gazed past me and smiled.
I turned to see a tall, gorgeous blonde walking toward us. I grinned because I had grown used to the notoriety. Any minute she’d be asking for an autograph. And I’d be gracious and oblige, since that was my way.
“Babe, there you are,” she murmured as she passed me to hook her arm through Irv’s.
“I told you I’d be right here.” He chuckled. They seemed lost in each other. And the already awkward moment had turned downright painful.
Slowly, I backed away. “See you at the reunion, Irv…and friend.” I offered a weak wave before turning and running immediately into a drop dead gorgeous redhead. She stumbled back, completely off-balance and would’ve fallen if I hadn’t wrapped my arms around her waist. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” I murmured to the beauty I held onto.
For a split second, she was absolutely limp in my arms. Then she threw a hand around my neck, glanced at me, and laughed. “Jordan Mitchell, you always did.”
I frowned as I tried to place her. I always did? Who the hell was I holding?
“Help me up, jock itch.” She laughed at her cleverness.
I helped her to her feet while studying her face. There was something familiar about her. I thought about what she’d called me. There was only one girl who’d ever gotten away with teasing me like that. A smile spread across my face. “Sassy? Is that you?” I righted her, then laid my hands on her shoulders turning her this way and that while I studied her features. There wasn’t a hint of baby fat on her. The round cheeks she’d once had were now hollowed out and replaced by amazing cheekbones. Oh, but those lips were the same, full and begging to be kissed.
Closing my eyes, I reminded myself I’m here for Mia. For the last ten years, I’d been thinking about her, and all the plans we’d made for our future. I went off to college, as agreed upon. Then I was drafted to play in the NFL. I’d been one of the first-round picks. In high school, we’d always talked about how we’d be together while we waited for the call. Instead, it was just me and the folks, at my South Carolina apartment. Don’t get me wrong, my parents were great, but there was no comparison to sharing the experience with them, versus sharing the moment with Mia. When I questioned them, they didn’t even have anything useful to tell me about her whereabouts. “I haven’t seen her since you left for college,” my father announced even as he exchanged looks with my mother.
I knew how they liked to play off technicalities. “So, you haven’t seen her, but have you heard about her? I knew she planned to go to L.A. with Sasha. They were going to room together, find an agent, and take Hollywood by storm.”
My mother piped in. “Sasha already has her SAG card. She has starred in a few commercials, and I’ve heard she’s auditioning for a role on some soap opera.” She’d smiled proudly. After all, Sasha had been the girl next door ever since fourth grade. When she hit puberty and the boys were chasing her, or the girls were being nasty to her out of sheer jealousy, I’d step in. We were friends. Always had been. I’d considered trying for something more, but what Mia told me about her prevented it. Regardless, our friendship had endured and Sasha’s tongue, which was so quick with comebacks, had earned her the nickname ‘Sassy Sasha,’ or simply ‘Sassy.’ I couldn’t think about all that. I couldn’t be distracted by her wit or beauty. Instead, I decided to get right to the point.
“How’s Mia? Is she with you?” Though my hands remained on her shoulders, I peeked around her to see if my girl was nearby.
Sasha pushed my hands off and stepped back. “No. Mia chickened out. I went to L.A. by myself. I haven’t heard from her since.” Her brow shot up as if she were challenging me to say something to her.
“Okay,” I murmured awkwardly. With a shrug, I stepped back to extend the distance between us. I licked my lips while I tried to figure out what to do now. I was torn between catching up with my old friend and seeking out my old girlfriend. The buzzer sounded and soon baggage began to roll by us on the conveyor belt.
Suddenly, Sasha bent over and snatched a designer suitcase from the belt. “Well, I’ll be seeing you at the reunion, jock itch. My parents are picking me up. I should go.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.” I flashed a smile that I knew fell flat.
“Right. There’s nothing worse than being kept waiting,” Sasha mumbled. Then she strode toward the exit and my spirits sank with every step she took away from me.
2
Sasha
Wow. The first time we saw each other in ten years and still, all he cared about was Mia. I’d turned on my heels to let him watch me walk away. After seeing myself on screen, I was well aware it was possibly my best side. I took long steps I’d perfected after years of practice. I hadn’t always been an actress. I’d done some minor modeling to pay the bills when I first moved. That’s how I learned to walk in anything and look sexy. It was also how I’d mastered my bland look.
The doors opened and I’d reached the curbside pickup in a matter of steps. I stood there scanning the area, but I couldn’t see my mother anywhere. Pulling my phone from my purse, I turned it on to see if I’d missed a call, but when I realized I hadn’t, and that there was no text either, I pushed the button to reach her.
“Hello, dear. Are you
on your way to the house?” My mother sounded incredibly perky for this late in the afternoon.
“I would be if you were here. When should I expect you?” I shifted nervously, eager to escape the area before Jordan showed up with more questions about Mia or found something equally offensive to discuss.
“Oh, I’m not coming,” she chirped.
I inhaled deeply before speaking. “So, shall I rent a car or hail a cab?” I asked as I moved closer to the curb. Just then a car came to a screeching halt in front of me and Mr. Mitchell hopped out of the driver’s side and waved to me while Mrs. Mitchell smiled and rolled down her window.
“The Mitchells should be there to pick you up any minute,” she assured me.
“Mom, why would you do this to me?” I mumbled through my fake smile.
With a sigh, Mom responded. “It’s silly for everyone to go to the airport when you were arriving at nearly the same time. The Mitchells are doing the pick-up, and your father and I will drop you two off.”
I rubbed my forehead. “How’d you know we were coming in at the same time?”
“Because Sandy and I talk. That’s how. Now be nice,” she ordered.
“Mom, I’m twenty-eight years old. Do you really think I need a lecture on my behavior?” Then I decided I didn’t really want her answer. “We’ll talk when I get there,” I grumbled. After I pushed the red button, I dropped the phone into my purse and turned my attention to Jordan’s parents who seemed super excited to see me.
“Let me take your bag,” Mr. Mitchell offered as he closed the distance between us.
“Thank you.” I grinned. “I’m sorry. I was just expecting my mother.” This threw me, but I shrugged it off. “Ignore me. And I really do appreciate the ride.”
“No problem! Hop on in. I’m sure Sandy is dying to talk to you. I’m pretty sure she wants you to give away some spoilers for the show.” He chuckled and held the back door open for me.
I sat, pulled in my legs, and slid across the leather seat until I was directly behind the driver’s seat. “Hello, Mrs. Mitchell,” I greeted her while pasting on a smile.
“Sasha, I’m so excited to see you.” She reached between the seats and patted my knee. “I watch you on the show. You’re amazing. I really believed you lost your memory. So, any chance you get it back before you make a terrible mistake and marry the wrong guy?” Her brows peaked and I snickered.
“I’m really not supposed to give anything away, but I can tell you the plot twists will surprise you!” I grinned and hoped she’d drop it.
“Just one little hint?” She clasped her hands under her chin and pleaded.
“Mom, leave Sassy alone,” Jordan urged as he sank down on the seat beside me. He turned and mouthed ‘sorry,’ while I nodded. “Hey, I thought your parents were picking you up.”
“Yeah. Me too,” I mumbled flatly. “Don’t worry, they’ll be driving us back to the airport on Sunday morning, so we’ll get to do this all over again in two days.” I rolled my eyes.
“I didn’t know they talked,” he commented.
I shrugged. “I guess things change.”
“Your mother and I are in the neighborhood book club.” Mrs. Mitchell grinned proudly.
Jordan and I exchanged confused looks before I whispered, “I’ve never seen my mother read anything other than Better Homes and Gardens magazine.”
“Mine prefers Southern Living…you know, because Pennsylvania is so southern,” Jordan countered.
Mr. Mitchell chuckled. “It’s a wine club.”
“We may have a few bottles…” His mother began.
“Sandy, you forget I was there,” Mr. Mitchell reminded her. “You may have been holding one of Oprah’s picks on your laps, but I promise you were more interested in wine and gossip.”
Her cheeks turned pink and I was afraid we were about to see an explosion. My eyes widened and I gripped the seat nervously.
Jordan leaned over and murmured into my ear. “It’s okay. Watch this.”
With a smile, Mr. Mitchell, reached out and rubbed his hand along her thigh. “Listen, my beautiful wife, I have no problem with you hanging out with your friends, drinking wine, and pretending to host a book club. I think you’re adorable and I wouldn’t want you to change, ever.” Then he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Shall we drive home now?”
She nodded. “Yes. Let’s.”
I laid a hand on my chest before I glanced up at him. That was what I wanted. Their marriage, their love story, was everything I’d imagined I might one day have myself. When Jordan met my gaze, I quickly looked away. In truth, I’d always imagined that relationship with him. In reality, he’d made it abundantly clear, Mia still held his heart.
Jordan
* * *
My parents asked me regularly why I wasn’t dating, why I hadn’t married yet. I’d tell them no one had caught my interest, but in truth, the one girl who had could never give me the relationship I wanted. Mia and I would never be like my parents. She was high maintenance, quick to offend, slow to forgive, and with the memory of an elephant. The more I thought about it, the more I remembered our past, the less I understood my desire to rekindle the relationship.
I stared out the window, but the passing scenery couldn’t hold my attention, not the way I was drawn to Sasha. “Are you happy in California?” I asked her quietly.
She jumped and turned toward me. “California?” She smiled widely. “Yes, I love it there. My hair doesn’t frizz. The humidity isn’t stifling. There’s always so much to do.” Sasha sighed happily. “You’d love it there. Other than the cost of living, I don’t know a single person who hates the place.”
“I might just find out.” I angled my body toward her. “I’m a free agent now and I’ve asked my agent to check out west coast teams for me. The Rams and the Chargers are particularly interesting options.”
She pursed her lips. “Let me know. I’ll be happy to show you around,” she murmured.
“That would be really nice,” I admitted. Dammit. I was here for Mia. Why the hell was I even entertaining the idea of spending time with Sasha?
Suddenly, my father rounded the corner, making a sharp turn and Sasha flew across the back seat, nearly into my lap. I caught her in my arms, but instead of steadying her, I stared into her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” I whispered.
Shaking her head sadly, she replied, “Jordan, you always have.”
We came to a stop and I realized we were in the driveway. “Why don’t you carry Sasha’s bags to her house?” my father suggested.
“Gladly.” I nodded and helped her sit up before releasing her. I was going to rush around the car and open her door, but she beat me to it. Clearly, she was used to fending for herself.
“I can carry this. I’m not helpless.” Sasha held out a hand to grab her suitcase.
“Nope. My father would kill me.” I shook my head and refused to relinquish the bag.
“And if he didn’t, I would,” my mother chimed in.
“I’ll be right back,” I called out to my parents as I followed Sasha to her front door the next house over. The bag was light compared to most of my bags. And the view was spectacular. There’s no way she looked like this in high school. If she had, I’d have never been so into Mia.
“Well, I can take it from here,” Sasha announced as we reached the front step.
“I’ll get it in the house for you. I’ll even carry it up the stairs. No need for you to haul it up to your bedroom.” I tightened my grip on the bag. A second later, I was completely forgotten as her mother opened the door.
“There you are!” Her mother threw her arms around Sasha and the two of them squealed. Once the path to the stairs was clear, I hauled her bag to her room, as promised, and dropped it at the end of her bed. I’d never been in here, but I knew right where her room was, since it was opposite mine. How many nights had I watched her in fascination as she paced around the room practicing her lines?
The room hadn’
t been touched since her departure. I recognized the same pink rose wallpaper, now yellowed from age. The twin bed stuck out perpendicularly from the wall, facing the row of windows. I felt both at home here and out of place, so I made my way down the stairs and was about to exit through the front door when Mrs. Monroe called out to me.
“See you soon, Jordan!” She smiled and waved.
I had no idea what she meant, assumed it was a passing remark, waved, and wandered back to my house. The trunk was open and my suitcase was still inside. I chuckled as I hauled it out and wheeled it toward the door.
“Hope you brought a swimsuit,” my father commented. “We’re going over to the Monroe’s for a pool party and cookout. They’re expecting us in about ten minutes. Go get ready.”
I’d spent my day traveling and I had the damn reunion cocktail mixer tonight. I sighed. “I don’t suppose I could take a nap and meet you over there later?” I smiled weakly.
“Not a chance.” My father crossed his arms over his chest, in case I hadn’t figured out he was serious.
“Got it. Guess I’ll go get ready.” I started up the stairs then ducked back down to ask my father a nagging question. “By the way, I’m twenty-eight. At what age does this stop?”
“The telling you want to do?” He smirked. “When I’m dead.”
“I see.” I nodded numbly and rushed up the stairs to change.
Nine minutes later, we were on our way to the neighbor’s house. My mother had a bag with the beach towels. My father had the mini-cooler bag slung over his shoulder. Me? I was carrying the giant plastic cooler filled with food as I started toward the front door.
“Where you going?” My father asked as he exited the back-patio door.
“The Monroes’?” I frowned.
“This way, sport.” He motioned for me to follow. My mother had already disappeared. I’d barely stumbled through the door, tripping as usual on the threshold, when I realized they’d made an alteration to the six-foot privacy fence that had separated the houses while Sasha and I were growing up. Now a gate stood open for us.