Check, Please?

Chapter 11

Harry ended up buying a gray suit, but not for the reunion.  He wasn’t going to buy it initially; he simply saw the suit on the mannequin and felt like trying it on.  However, when I couldn’t stop drooling over how damn good he looked in the suit – how nicely the gray hung on his legs and shoulders and how long and lean it made his body look – he bought it.  He teased me about it all day, telling me I better find a killer outfit to wear or else he was going to steal the spotlight without me.  That didn’t bother me, though.  I was more of a behind-the-scenes kind of girl anyway. 

I was a little surprised when Harry didn’t come out of his room in the new shirt that he bought yesterday though either.  When we emerged from our rooms to face each other the morning of the reunion, Harry started to say something but stopped as he took in my appearance.  His eyes scanned my body carefully as I stood in my new dark red dress and black heels.  The dress was fitted, stopping just above my knee.  The sleeves covered my shoulders but barely any of my arm and the front of the dress cut straight down between my breasts into a deep V that stopped just beneath my chest, barely above my abdomen. 

I smiled at Harry confidently for a few moments, but when he didn’t say anything, my confidence began to fade and the corners of my smile dropped slowly. “Eh… good or bad speechless?”

Harry’s eyes fluttered open and closed a few times and he choked on his own breath. “I’m not speechless – I mean it’s – Grood! Grood, I meant good and great and said grood…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You look fantastic, Scotty.  Did you get that dress yesterday?  I didn't see you try it on.”

I hummed and ran my hands down my thighs to flatten out the wrinkles. “I just wanted to surprise you I guess.”

“Well you look great,” Harry breathed.

I felt my cheeks flush and twisted my heel into the wood floor. I avoided Harry’s still awestruck gaze as I looked him up and down.

He was wearing his new casual black suit pants and a light blue button-up collared shirt.  The shirt hung open to reveal part of his swallow tattoos on the upper part of his chest.

“Skipping a tie today?” I asked.

“Well, we still don’t know if it’s casual or not,” he replied, reaching into his pocket and removing a long black tie. “If I need to put it on, I will.”  He looked back up at me quickly and raised his hand to pull on one of my carefully curled blonde strands. “Hey, you look really good.”

I giggled and gently pushed his hand away. “You already said that.”

“Oh,” Harry said shortly, turning and walking down the hallway toward the living room.  “Uh, yeah.  Okay.  Where are my keys?” 

We were both jittery as we rode just outside of the city and to our old high school.  That shitty old place that I struggled through for four years.  That hell hole that I had so many bad memories in.  The closer we got to it, the more I wanted to stick my finger down my throat.  I always played sick with Harry and he had gotten good and knowing when I was faking, so if he could actually see vomit maybe he would turn the car around.  I knew he hated vomit too, so maybe if I threw up on him, he would definitely turn around.  As I looked out the window, I silently scolded myself for thinking of such a vile plan and went on to thinking about another way to get out of this.  Harry didn’t look so sure about going to the reunion either once we pulled into the parking lot.  He put the car in park and exhaled hard as he stared at the huge brick building before us.  I was almost too scared to look at it, but I didn’t even have to in order to be able to picture the huge glass panels that made up the entrance to the school – the three stories of windowless bricks that secured the jail cell-like classrooms – the red bathroom stalls that had graffiti and gossip all over them – the lunchroom that reeked of old eggs and had food stains on the ceiling.  Barton Smith High School – or as most of us called it – Bull Shit High School.