"Are you excited," Jacqueline asks, turning to look at me from the passenger's seat of Clair's Jeep as we pull into the parking lot. The school wasn't too cheap as to hold our five year reunion in the school gym, so we were at the fairly local country club.

"I might be, I might not be, who knows?" I give her my most mysterious stare. "Oh, who am I kidding. I'll have to say that I'm extremely nervous. We haven't seen these people in years. What will they think of me now?" I bite my lip and bounce my leg, though this is nothing out of the ordinary.

"You'll be fine! Now come on!" Clair gets out of the driver's seat only to drag me out of the backseat. I give her my death stare as we swagger into the main building.

Even though the town we grew up in isn't too different, the alumni certainly are; I don't recognize quite a few people.

Old cliques reunited from our "glory" days are scattered around the hall, with various new additions and unfamiliar faces. Early pregnancy and plastic surgery does a lot to a person.

Speaking of appearances, the range with which people dress is astonishing. Some are trashy and show off cleavage and bottoms, while others reside in full body binds, it seems, or t-shirts and shorts- this should be interesting.

Not knowing what else to do and feeling overly awkward, I take the lead and direct our little group to the snack table.

Trashy music is blaring from two speakers at the DJ's booth (requests are currently be taken, and, considering the quality, I can pinpoint the suggesters) while the committee waits for more people to arrive; it's hard to hear ourselves think.

Little cheese cubes sit out, with the occasional flitting fly as garnish. Steering clear of those, I pick up a seemingly untouched grape just as I hear a sleazy, oily voice say Jacqueline's name. A jab in the back from Clair enunciates it Matthew's drawl.

"I don't remember you...," his voice trails off slightly, a wee bit of a slur peeking through.

"Uh, okay... That's... Bye? Bye." Rattling a cupcake tier, Jacqueline runs off in the general direction of the bathroom.

"Her loss." His shoulder length black hair, shiny with moose, gets a swipe from his grubby hand. "So-o..." But he never finishes his suggestive sentence, because Clair and I have retreated to the projector slideshow of baby and current pictures sent in by alumni, leaving Jacqueline alone to recuperate wherever she is.

We halt, slightly panting, just as the "it" boy walks in.

I'd gone to elementary school, middle school, and high school with him. All throughout that time, he was the most popular boy. I mean why not- he had all of the requirements. Good looks. Thin, yet somewhat muscular. So athletic it was almost insulting (it's hard to hate him). Heck, he was even decent at singing. He's not overly bright, but at least his smile is. Oh, did I forget to mention how much of a gentleman he normally is? Looking at him now, I can tell nothing has changed. I can't help but stare at his charming grin as he makes his way into the spotlight of eyes.

Redirecting my line of vision (I really can't afford to do anything stupid, especially when it comes to Derick Peterson), I spot a friend I haven't spoken to in awhile.

Sidling away from a gawking Clair (Sam has nothing on this guy), I make my way over to Paige.

"Oh my gosh hi!" Her words come out in one big rush as she squeezes me, her small physique betraying her excitement.

"Hey! You look great." Her black glasses match the sundress she dons, looking low-key elegant; the smile she wears is radiant.

"Thanks. You too, of course." Paige tugs on a piece of my hair, letting it fall back against my own cranberry halter dress.

"How've you been? I haven't seen you in ages."

"Well..."

Just like that, we're chatting like our lives depend on it (if not our lives, then at least our sanities). She's telling me all of her tales- which include a dating scandal, cliff diving, and temperamental professor- and I'm telling her mine.

Just as I'm getting to the good part of all of the Nicolas drama, the current superintendent of my old stomping grounds, Redwood East High School, walks on to the collapsable stage.

After a slightly obnoxious throat clearing and a signal to the local DJ, Superintendent Baxter proceeds to tell all alumni to, "Take your assigned seats at your tables. The luncheon will begin shortly."

Heeding his words, I hug Paige goodbye (promising to spill the rest later) and begin the search for my seat. Much to my dismay, none of us are seated together.

Sighing, I sit down at table 23, waving at a rediscovered Jackie when I catch her eye.

Fingering the fun, little maroon bow on my party favor bag, I nonchalantly glance at the other cards at the table.

Kevin Wilson- classic, unpopular know-it-all.

Ariyanna James- local slut and attention hog.

Damion Sutton- class clown and all-around cool guy.

Jordan Blakeman- chill, smart, and our valedictorian.

Alanna Black- me.

This should be interesting...

"Hey, Alanna." Kevin's round face brings me out of my terrible imaginings as he squashes himself into the feeble chair across from me. "It looks like you took my advice and didn't die," he giggles.

Let me explain. Ever since seventh grade, Kevin had been writing, "Don't die," in my yearbooks. He thought (and apparently still thinks) it's very funny, but I don't.

"As always," I say, not knowing where to go with this conversation.

"By the way, you look great," he drawls, attempting to scoot his chair closer to the table.

"Oh, uh, thanks," I smile, hoping to draw his gaze up to my actual eyes. By the looks of it, he hasn't forgotten about his teensy little attraction to me.

"So, do you have a boy-"

"Eww! I have to sit near Kevin," Ariyanna whines, coming to stand behind her chair on my left hand side.

"Ew, I have to sit near Ariyanna," mocks Kevin, since he's no good at comebacks.

"Boy, you be wishing you were cool enough to sit by me WITHOUT assigned seats. Can I trade, anyone?" Her head whips around in annoyance as she stares at everybody determined not to look at her. "Ugh!"

"Ariyanna, just suck it up- Kevin certainly has," an out-of-the-blue Damion retorts, scooting his chair (which is also next to Kevin) slightly away from him.

In order to hide my smile, I prop my elbow on the table and nonchalantly stick my hand in front of my mouth. Damion could read the phone book and make you guffaw, but it's extremely rude to make fun of others.

"Oh my god, Damion," shrieks Ariyanna. "You are so funny!"

Sputtering, Kevin replies, "Well, you-you know what, Ariyanna? I-"

"Just drop it, guys," I shout, interrupting Kevin's sad attempts at defending himself.

Turning away to gossip with the hoe behind her, Ariyanna mutters," I'm not a dog."

Silently sighing, I turn away from the now mild bickering at our table. My gaze lingers enviously on Derick's table, barely even noticing the captivated (and ignored) Clair seated to his right.

"Me too," says Jordan, rolling his eyes in Ariyanna's direction.

At the sound of Jordan's voice, I startle. "When did you get here?"

"Don't worry, I just sat down," he smiles.

"Whew; this would be awkward otherwise. So, are you ready to spout to a room full of immature adults," I ask, talking about the speech he has to say (as valedictorian) to us all.

"That's one way to put it. Well, I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

Just as he finishes his sentence, they call him up to the stage.

Jordan stands up, straightening his bow tie. I wish him good luck as he walks away.

Standing on tiptoe so he can see over the podium (Jordan has always been on the small side), he begins his address.

"Hello, and thank you for coming. These few moments when we are all gathered together in celebration of each other and our achievements is truly great. Of course..."

Nothing out of the ordinary is said. Jordan thanks practically everyone in the administration, praises our class, reminisces about high school, and quotes a few important people.

"I appreciate the time and attention you all have given to me. Once again, thank you."

Almost as soon as Jordan returns to his seat and accepts my pat on the back, caterers in classic black and white uniforms enter the hall with trays of cloches.

They scatter little tea sandwiches, parfaits, macarons, and more along the tables, allowing for alumni to pick and choose their own menu.

Filling my plate with a little bit of everything, I delicately dig in.

^*^*^*

Stepping out into the fading tendrils of forgiving sunshine, I allow the smile I've had fastened on my face for the afternoon to fall, rubbing cheeks sore from laughing.

Spotting Clair's royal blue Jeep, I head towards it while waving at acquaintances also heading out.

Seeing as I'm the first person back to the locked car, I'm left to wait for them by my lonesome.

I take off my heels (a big relief, even with the gravel biting into my feet), letting my mind digest the latter half of the reunion...

Once the food had been whisked away from our content stomachs, Superintendent Baxter explained random stations scattered throughout the hall, and left us to our own devices (a questionable decision).

I'd quickly found a still bubbly Paige and dragged her over to the baby pictures' slide show. I let loose the rest of my recent drama in between laughing at dorky, innocent photos of our class.

Looking back, I don't know what compelled me to pour my heart out to Paige. I won't tell the other girls about what's going on for some reason, yet I just broke down my walls and flooded her with everything. Maybe it's because she has an outsider's view; maybe it's the fact that she's separate from the rest of my life; maybe it's her aura; maybe it's all of that, or maybe it's none of that. Maybe I'll never know.

I'd only just finished with my onslaught of thoughts (guilt, anxiety, stupidity, confusion, lust, hate, love?), when Kevin waddled over and asked for a dance.

Paige avoided Kevin like the plague back when we were middle and high schoolers, so it was no surprise when she'd fled at the sight of him, texting me apology after apology within seconds.

Feeling bad for him and not knowing how to gently turn him down, I'd warily accepted (even though he probably didn't want a pity dance).

Unfortunately for me, a slow song came  on, meaning I'd had to lay my palms on his short, sweaty, stocky shoulders for three minutes straight. Kevin's jokes were lame, and his compliments odd as I'd avoided glancing down into his watery eyes. Before the last chords and distortion had faded, I'd slipped through the crowd and out of his crawling embrace. After that experience, I probably smelled like hand sanitizer, soap, and mismatched perfume for the rest of the reunion.

After that, I wasn't sure if I even wanted to walk near the dance floor again, but the sun must have decided to part the clouds, for none other than Derick Peterson approached me.

You heard me- DERICK EFFING (actually it's Edmond, not that I would know) PETERSON; at this point, I was ready to say, "Screw the boycott"- I'm still shaking at the thought of what happened, an intense blush trailing its way up my cheeks; I must be in shock.

Believe it or not, Derick started flirting with me. His tenor tone must have called me every synonym of beautiful by the time he asked me to dance. I was so over the moon by that point that I hardly noticed the glint in his stunningly steel blue gaze or the whiskey peeking through his minty breath.

Chained to the Rhythm by Katy Perry pulsed around us, blurring the jostling bodies thrumming in time to the music. The random bumps, touches, and nudges from him ( even unnoticeably uncharacteristic) jolted me, and his throaty laughter highlighted the bass in the song and the blood in my body. Everything about him was red-hot, from the gelled tips of his hair to his slightly scuffed Nikes. The moment was one big rush, with not enough time for me to take note of the places his hands hit.

As Katy Perry's notes came to an abrupt halt, Derick lingered, ruffling his styled hair to stall.

A lovely legato melody drifted out of the speakers, and that was all it took for Derick to latch on to me (even drunk, he still had smooth movements).

His hands comfortably found their way to my waist, as they most likely already had dozens of times today.

My fingers nervously ran up his arms to land on his shoulders, making him ripple with a shudder of goosebumps.

Shamelessly looping his fingers in small cutouts on my dress that circled my stomach, he pulled me even closer to him, something I didn't think was possible. The sensation of his warm touch on my exposed skin played with my nerves, short-circuiting my thought process.

His chest (a safe place to close my eyes and process what was happening) was solid beneath my trembling head, and his breath warm on my neck as he asked if I wanted to get away for awhile.

Except, it wasn't Derick's voice that slipped inside of my ears, and when my body startled away from his tightening grip, it wasn't his face I was staring at in total disbelief. I was no longer with Derick- I had unknowingly fantasized about one of the guys.

My heart ran, taking me with it.

Once I'd escaped and calmed down, I never set foot on the dance floor again.

I did, however, play Pin the Tail on the Teacher, take goofy photos at the photo booth with a couple of other old friends, catch up with people, and play balloon volleyball.

Every so often, I'd catch myself searching for Kevin or Derick, but, thankfully, Kevin never reappeared, and Derick was attached to some random girl every time.

"There you are! See I told you she would be at the car!"

"Whatever! At least we found her!"

Prying my eyes away from the lone cloud in the sky, I smirk at Clair and Jacqueline.

"I've had a super long day. Let's hit the road," exclaims Clair unlocking her Jeep and swinging into her seat.

Clicking my seatbelt, I yell, "Amen!"

"So," says Jacquline, wiggling her eyebrows and turning to face both of us as we roll out of the parking lot. "Did either of you have fun?"

"Well..."