Tiffany stands and greets me with a warm hug. “Oh my goodness, Mia Page! Tonight would not have been the same without you.” She scribbles something under my name with a Sharpie marker.
When I take it from her I smile when I see the honorary title, remembering the cheers that echoed throughout the school’s gym when they gave me the sash with Miss Congeniality embroidered in pink lettering.
“Hi, Tiff! What a nice thing to say, but tonight wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for you. You guys did an amazing job capturing our youth. This whole scene is so...” I don’t even have a word to describe it.
“I know, isn’t it just surreal? Can you believe it’s been ten years? I can’t. I remember certain things so vividly. As if they happened yesterday. My husband thinks I’m stuck in the past. I tell him if I could do those four years over and over again on repeat I would.”
I know what she means. I hate getting old. High school was the time of my life, but then again—Declan, my little girls—I couldn’t imagine life without them. I listen as Tiffany babbles about a far off memory about our senior retreat as I catch a glimpse of Kyle out of the corner of my eye. He’s hanging on every word she says. If I were a betting woman I’d put my money on a bathroom stall or a nearby hotel room with these two as its occupants. Tiffany’s living in the past and unlike her husband, Kyle doesn’t mind one bit. There may have been a method to the ‘no spouses’ stipulation after all.
On our way to the bar for her sparkling water and my glass of wine, Lisa and I mingle with the people who used be our friends. Lila Peters still looks like a Barbie doll, Frank Fusco remains adorably goofy and Patrick Mulligan is no longer scrawny and pimply, but drop dead gorgeous.
We sit down at our table, smiling at the others who have joined us. Then, it’s like a scene from She’s All That. Cue slow motion, forced wind, and cheesy music.
He walks in.
At this moment I wish I shared some kind of mental telepathy with deejay Daniel. My choice of song for Noah is Sex and Candy by Marcy Playground. The sexy, velvety melody matches everything about him. That should be playing in the background as he saunters into this room, eyeing up the joint as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
My world stops, and the sight of him makes me momentarily dizzy. He’s everything I’ve seen in all those crazy dreams. Oh my God! Those crazy dreams! My cheeks are flushed, my knees bouncing up and down uncontrollably underneath this table. I gaze down at my hands, fiddling with my damn rings again, hoping he’ll pass me by and leave me to my irrational musings.
“Well, if it isn’t the beautiful Mia Page.”
I lift my eyes to see that all strapping six foot three inches of the sandy haired, impeccably dressed Noah Matheson has found his way over to this of all tables. And he’s using that word again.
He makes eye contact with Lisa. These two were actual friends ten years ago. They had a relationship that consisted of relevant friendship-like things. Not like the non-existent, obsessive nature of our one-sided relationship. They exchange a hug and a kiss on the cheek before he starts to pull out the empty chair. Next to me!
“Please tell me this seat isn’t already taken?”
I shake my head, giving him permission to sit. Did I mention his choice of seat is right next to me? As he does, the spicy, musky smell of his cologne travels through the air and into my nostrils, doing orgasmic things to my mind and body.
I’m back to spinning my rings, round and round. If I don’t quit now, the skin beneath them will turn raw.
Noah takes notice of my hands, gawking. “So, who’s the lucky guy? And why didn’t you call me after you broke up with that boyfriend of yours?”
It takes a minute for me to put two and two together, but then I realize he’s referring to the comment he made that night in The Room. If you and that boyfriend of yours don’t work out, you know where to find me. When he spoke those words all those years ago I never imagined he would hold me to them.
“Sorry, Noah, but it ended up working out.” Well, at least it was working out until a few months ago.
Noah looks stunned. “Wait. What? You married that guy?”
I nod, sheepishly. Why am I suddenly embarrassed that I married so young?
“Well, good for you and even better for him. Here I was waiting on a phone call all these years when I should have known all the good girls are always taken.”
Suddenly I feel the urge to flirt. “You know, Noah, there was a time when I was yours for the taking. I do hope you didn’t string your wife along before making her Mrs. Matheson.”
Thankfully, Lisa is too busy with the fashionably late Kristen. I don’t need her to hear this and risk the chance of it spreading its way through the grapevine.