The Kippens | Tyrus

Reconnection

Cyrus' POV

4 Years Ago

Everything is dimly lit, for the only light sources are the swivelling purple and green spotlights above the dance floor and the blue lamps by illuminating the bar. I don't go clubbing often, but Buffy does, and tonight she decided to drag me along with her. She said I needed to get out again and talk to people, make some friends, so her solution is to shove me into the middle of a room filled with tipsy adults.

Buffy and I stay at the edge of the cluster of people on the dance floor. The DJ mixes together two pop songs that I am completely unfamiliar with, but they make Buffy bop her head.

"Clubbing is so much more fun for me now that I don't have to worry about creeps hitting on me," Buffy says. "The ring is a bit of a deterrent."

She grins wide as she shows off her engagement ring. The diamond sparkles in the coloured lights. Since Marty proposed, she's been excited 24/7, constantly talking about her plans for the wedding, so I'm surprised it took her this long tonight to mention anything about her getting married.

I'm happy for her. Don't get me wrong. But her engagement has brought back memories of the man I blocked years ago. I wonder if TJ and I hadn't broken up, would we be engaged by now too? I never had any defined plan, but I thought for sure we'd get married. But I guess things change, and people split apart. And sometimes they come back together. But that couldn't be us. We've been damaged for too long now. Still, I wonder, if I saw him again—if while Buffy spots her friends from one of her classes and heads out to join them on the dance floor, and I, being far less social, slide to the back of the room to sit down at the bar and watch the noisy people around me, someone with blonde hair that swoops over on either side of his head, and a jawline as sharp as the street corner we used to drive around at night to forget about everything except us, sat down at the bar a few seats away from me—would he even recognize me? Will he recognize me?

It takes me a second to accept what I'm seeing. Maybe it's just the lighting that's making this random guy look like the one in my memories. That must be it. He's not talking to me, yet I thought I saw him do a double take when his eyes fell on me for an instant. I turn my focus back out to the dancers. It's not him. There's no way it's him. But then the blonde figure comes over to occupy the empty stool next to mine, and I feel my heart accelerating in my chest, reaching its maximum when he speaks.

"Chocolate Chocolate Chip Muffin, right?"

I can't believe he remembers that. That was the first time we ever really talked. I knew I had the moment memorized, but I never realized he did too.

I look over to meet his gaze as I respond, "Scary Basketball Guy."

A bit of what seemed like fear loosens from his expression, and he smiles slightly.

"So do you hang out here a lot?" he asks.

"Only when I'm feeling bad about myself."

"I get that," TJ says, going a bit off track from the memory I have. "Usually this makes me feel better."

I'm no longer repeating a moment. I'm genuinely curious as I wonder, "What do you have to feel better about?"

His eyes go sad as he releases a long breath. "Everything."

I look down at my hands twiddling in my lap. Everything. He's referring to the tsunami of heartbreak, being deprived of the person I loved, and having my earth pulled out from under my feet that he threw upon me. He's referring to something that would've been considered unforgivable if it had been done by anyone else. But it was him.