Reunion+-+Final+Draft

 Seven years ago I definitely didn’t think I would be standing in front of my mirror worrying about making that second first impression. And of all years, why in the hell is it seven? Reunions are overrated. Never thought I’d spend time in the mirror fixing my “go-to” tie.  “Jack, stop fiddling with that tie, it’s not going to get any straighter,” Libby said, sitting on the edge of the satin blue comforter buckling her strappy heels. “We’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon anyway.”  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Libby’s reflection. Stunning. Her little black dress flowed effortlessly over her perfect hour glass shape. She never needed to do much to be beautiful, but she’d always deny it every time I’d say something. Love that about her.  “We’re only staying for an hour, k? I’m not sure if I can deal with people much longer than that,” I said finally walking away from the mirror and my tie. Libby turned around, kissed my cheek and said, “Whatever you say.” As she slid effortlessly to the side and towards the stairs, I could still smell the sweet magnolias of her perfume in the air. One last look in the mirror: stupid tie.
 * Reunion **

 Just as I remembered it. The long, brick building carried the memories of high school I had made sure I’d forgotten. “Let’s get this over with,” I said with a groan I intentionally didn’t hide.  With little effort, I helped Libby down from her passenger seat of the black SUV then walked, hands linked, towards the double doors of the old building. I could feel the claustrophobia of my tie around my neck as we reached the dolled up cafeteria. At first a flood of memories came as the familiar lunch room odor reached my nose. I think I still owe money for that broken lunch table. “Damn, there’s Pete. The one person I was hoping not to see…” Libby squeezed my arm when she felt me tense up at the sight of him, but was unaware of my reason. I hope she doesn’t find out.  Pete came trudging toward us with that smug look on his face carrying a wine glass as if it were brandy.  “Well say it ain’t so, hey there Jack!”  “Hey Pete.” “Pete, this is Libby,” I said only for Libby’s sake. Without even looking in her general direction he said, “hey,” tehn took another sip and glanced around the room as though we were unimportant. Tried to ignore that. “Glad you’re doin’ well,” I said rolling my eyes slightly. “So how’s that back treatin’ ya?” I was hoping he caught my sarcasm - he did.  “Well, ya know, um, I got it covered,” Pete said straightening up a little more. He started fiddling with his fingers as it looked like he searched for something impressive to say. Funny how he has to think so hard. Geeze, don’t have a brain aneurism - I laughed with myself. The flashback to the broken table came rolling back in. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 16px;"> Pete gained the arrogant look again, opened his mouth, closed it, then opened again to say, “Well, ya know, Jack…I don’t mess with that stuff anymore.” <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 16px;"> “Right,” I said doubtingly eyeing his messy rolled up sleeves. I could still see some lingering bruises from the puncture marks. “I’m sure we’re both a little too old for that now, right?” <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 16px;"> He narrowed his eyes and took a warning step towards me. If it came to it, I wouldn’t mind adding more money to that table tab. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 16px;">“But hey, it was nice seeing ya again Pete. We just might have to do this again sometime.” I love sarcasm. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 16px;">I wrapped my arm around Libby’s waist, her soft, silk dress in between my fingers, and lead her to a seat. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 16px;">“What was that all about?” Libby whispered in my ear. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 16px;">“No worries, Lib.” <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 16px;">As I pulled her chair out for her to sit down, I glanced back over at Pete. He was still standing there, half turned, his shoulders slumped, lips pursed, and right eye brow raised clutching the inside of his elbow. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 16px;">That should shut him up for a while.