Reunion

"Hello?"

"Hey, Brian."

"Cass? What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"It is," I said, picking an imaginary piece of lint from my black dress. "I haven't gone in yet." I checked my lipstick in the mirror for the fifth time.

"Come on. Seriously? Your reunion started thirty minutes ago. You've been sitting in the parking lot for that long?"

"No—more like fifteen minutes," I replied. I held the phone away from my ear as Brian sighed dramatically. "Cassandra Michelle Eldridge, get in that building. You are going to have fun. I am hanging up the phone now."

"But Brian—" I heard an audible click as the call disconnected. I should have known better than to keep trying. Brian was supposed to be my "date" tonight. I'd wanted someone familiar to hang out with, since I don't do well with crowds. I finally got out of the car and started making my way to the high school auditorium doors.

I was not looking forward to dealing with my former high school associates tonight. Over the course of those four years, I'd been the target of bullies due to my love of books and writing. I majored in journalism in college, which was amazing. However, I found myself writing for other people and not for myself. Six months ago, I'd published my first collection of prose and poetry. The New York Times had given it a positive review, which was both awesome and terrifying. I seriously doubted the people from my class would see me as a success.

I already knew from lurking on the reunion's Facebook event that the majority of the people who were going to be there were people I really didn't want to see. A few old friends were going to be there, but I had nothing in common with them anymore. They all had kids and families, and all I had were my words.

I mused on my only positive experience I'd had in high school—my senior year English class. I'd been struggling with writing my final paper on T. S. Eliot's "The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock." The teacher's assistant, Alex, helped me with my paper. He was in college while I was in high school, loved prose and poetry, and was good-looking. I had a pretty big crush on him for the majority of my senior year. I'd even dedicated my book to him.

Walking up to the auditorium, I realized my thoughts about Alex had lifted my spirits. As I opened the heavy door, I mumbled to myself, "And indeed there will be time to wonder, 'Do I dare? and, 'Do I dare?'"

I recognized the woman working the check-in table as a former cheerleader, although I couldn't remember her name. "Hey there!" she called to me. "Name?"

"Cassandra Eldridge. It may be under Cassie." The woman glanced over the nametags spread across the table, handing it to me once she found it. I stared down at the little white piece of paper in my hands, containing my name and a photo. My younger self stared back out at me. Her pale shoulders were draped in black velvet fabric and she had a hesitant smile on her face. I pinned the card to my left side and thanked the cheerleader, making my way into the commons area.

It didn't look like much had changed. Even the layout of the reunion echoed my senior prom, except the bar and buffet at the back of the room. The DJ positioned on the old wooden stage was playing Bell Biv Devoe's "Poison" as the people I used to go to high school with were attempting to dance like they did two decades ago. I decided that I needed a drink, making my way toward the bar. While heading that way, my eye was drawn to a blonde doing her best Roger Rabbit dance. Distracted, I ran right into the person in front of me.

"Oh! I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention," I said, turning to see who it was. My face fell when I realized it was Rick George, an old football player. He'd been one of the biggest bullies I'd dealt with in school.