High School Reunion

I walk down the hallway of my high school. My sneakers don't squeak against the tiled floor like they used to. It's been ten years since graduation and now I'm at the reunion. I had been considering whether I wanted to come tonight. I was a no one in high school. No one would miss me if I didn't come, no one would notice if I did. Did I really want to see how great/pathetic everyone's lives were now? People talking about their jobs, spouses, and kids. New boobs and fancy cars. People in nice clothes trying to prove something to people they used to go to school with, who they never see or think about anymore. I'm wearing exactly what I did in high school; a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a plain green tee. It's not like I could wear anything else. I've never had anything really nice. I planned to do something with my life when I got out of this hell hole. I was going to go to college with my girlfriend, get my Ph.D. in robotics, and make something of myself. None of that went to plan.

Three boys, who I think were on the lacrosse team, open the door to the gymnasium where the reunion is being held, and I sneak in behind them. I look around the room. Everyone is talking to someone, reminiscing about the "good old days." No one even glances in my direction. I didn't expect them to. The thing I definitely didn't expect was a hand to come up behind me and rest on my shoulder.

"Hey, Jackie!" says the owner of the hand. It's Billy Jackson. He was co- president of the Graphics Club. We hadn't been friends but it's nice to see him. I know he's in the same boat I'm in.

"Hi, Billy." I reply with a sigh of relief.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spook you."

"It's alright." I smile. "How are you?"

"As good as I can be. You?"

"Same as ever." Billy looks over to the table of his old friends.

"It was great to see you and maybe we can talk later, but I have to hear what the guys have to say, it's been a long time." I nod in understanding and he runs off. I hear the gym doors open and close behind me, and something inside me tells me to turn around. Standing in the doorway is my ex-girlfriend, Jane. I want to hate her, but looking at her I can't. She's standing there with her beautiful black hair draped over her shoulder, her smile painted red,and her pencil figure all wrapped up in a dark blue dress with a black sweater. She looks as beautiful as the last time I saw her. Another thing I can not ignore is the woman on her arm. Jane and her date sit down at a table full of friends Jane had made senior year, without me.

I watch her talk and laugh. There were times over the past ten years I would have given anything to hear her laugh. I think the reason I decided to come was because I wanted to see her. I never told her I loved her, but I think she knew. I hope she knew. Back in high school, when her hair was short, when she bit her nails, when she drove a blue car that matched my eyes, when she was my girl and I was hers. It was a horrible few years, but it was the best with her. It really was the good old days. I only wish I had had more of them. While thinking this, I remembered why I didn't want to come. Never once did she look my way, and I dare not take another step closer.

Someone taps on a microphone.

"Hello!" A woman with a high pitched voiced screeches. She is standing in the front of the room, where balloons and a projection screen is set up. "I am the school's current principal and I just want to welcome all of you back! I hope you're all having a good time. We will be opening the bar in a few minutes." A group of men, including Billy, "woo". "But first we want to honor the people from your class who have passed away." A picture appears sideways on the screen. After a few seconds the picture is right side up.

"William Jackson" the principal presents. I look over at Billy. His friends are all looking at each other and muttering things like "Good ol' Bill" and "It's a damn shame" and Billy has a sad smile falling off his face. The projector goes to the next picture. "Jacquelyn Simmons." I stare at my forced smiling face. They use my yearbook picture, which might be my least favorite picture of myself, but it's somewhat comforting to see my own face again. I look over at Jane. Her date, whom I have deduced to be her wife, is consoling her. Everyone at the table is giving her a half smile and a condolence.

I remember the night when we crashed her blue car that matched my eyes. I remember her driving, and the giant gash on her arm. I remember knowing I was going to die and trying to squeeze out my last words to her but all I could manage was " I lo-" before it all went black. My gaze shifts from her face to her arm. Is she wearing that sweater to hide her scar? I want to go over there and hug her. I remember why I didn't want to come. I didn't want to see that broken look on her face. She will never look my way again. I don't dare take another step closer, because I'm terrified to find out if a heart that stopped beating so long ago can still break.