10 Years Later

What? Well, that’s what it told me when we got ready.

Kristy and I waited as a couple got their picture taken at the photographer’s station before it was our turn. Digital cameras made everything super quick, and they were done in what seemed like two seconds before we took our place and stood on the X marked with masking tape on the floor.

“Let’s pretend it’s formal. I’ll be the boy and hold you like this.” Kristy wrapped her arms around my waist, and I laughed before tilting my head to the side overdramatically and smiling with way too many teeth showing.

The photographer laughed as he took our picture, and we walked away arm in arm toward one of the rear entrances, avoiding the check-in table and its long line.

“Ready?” She looked at me and I nodded in response as we walked through the open double doors into a large room that was decorated to the nines.

Flower centerpieces adorned the middle of each round table, and candles floated in tall cylinder vases that were filled with water. It felt like we were at a wedding reception, with the exception of the balloons. I craned my neck, taking in the sheer number of them that covered the entire ceiling, curled ribbons hanging from them in various lengths, tempting you to reach up and pull them down. More were scattered on the floor, the ribbons splayed out around them, just waiting to get caught in someone’s high heel. The rest were tied to the back of the chairs, like you would see at a kid’s birthday party. Every single chair had a balloon.

“It looks like a balloon factory threw up in here,” I said, raising my voice over the soft music that played in the background.

“No shit. And isn’t it a little early for the let’s-get-drunk-and-fuck mood lighting?” Kristy asked, noting the room’s already semi-darkened state.

Glancing across the space, I couldn’t help myself as I scanned the room for that one particular person. After a quick sweep of the area, I determined that he wasn’t here yet, if he showed up at all.

“Hey, girls! So good to see you.” A busty woman came up and hugged each of us as I glanced at her nametag, thankful again for the senior picture that it included.

“Hi, Teresa! It’s so nice to see you. How are you?”

Teresa regaled us with the woes of being married—and divorced—already. She had two kids, was now a single mom, and worked full time at a thankless job. Her words, not mine. Apparently she had married her high school sweetheart, Jim, someone I couldn’t quite remember, but was told I’d know him if I saw him. Then she launched into an emotional diatribe about how he had better not show up to this event tonight because he was supposed to be watching the kids, and she wanted to have one nice night without him rubbing his new life in her face. She claimed the last thing she could handle would be seeing his worthless ass here with his new nineteen-year-old girlfriend.

Kristy politely excused us after that.

“That was fun.” I widened my eyes in mock disbelief of my own words.

“She seems really happy.” Kristy mimicked my facial expression, and I laughed.

“Nineteen-year-old girlfriend, though? That’s horrible. What is it with guys?” I added with a frown.

“They’re wildly insecure and can’t stand getting older. We handle it with grace, dignity, and Botox.” She flipped her hair and smiled. “They handle it with new cars, new girlfriends, and Viagra.”

I laughed at her assessment and wanted to disagree, but couldn’t. “We should find somewhere to sit. I feel exposed standing here, like we’ll attract more horror stories.” I glanced around, more than ready to find our table.

“Right. ’Cause no one will be bitter or crazy if we’re seated at a table,” Kristy said sarcastically, and I made an annoyed face at her.

I had no idea what direction to head in, so I didn’t move. “Where should we go?”

She looked around the room, scanning the occupants through narrowed eyes. “I see seats over at Jenna Carlson’s table.”

“How the hell do you recognize everyone?” Even though most of these faces were on Facebook every day, they still looked different all dolled up, not Photoshopped, and in person. Not to mention the fact that I was terrible with names and faces.

“It’s a gift,” she said with a smile. “Let’s go sit with over there, okay?”

“Sounds fine to me.”

I barely remembered Jenna Carlson, but I knew I didn’t dislike her. To be honest, I disliked very few people in high school. Unless you gave me a reason to hate you, I simply didn’t.

Jenna stood up from her chair and squealed like an overly exuberant sorority girl at the sight of us, and I fought off the urge to run in the opposite direction.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! It’s Cammie and Kristy! You two look amazing and exactly the same! Wow! Don’t you age? How have you been? It’s been too long!”

She continued to shout out rapid-fire questions, and her smile was so big I thought her cheeks might split. But when she opened her arms, I gave in to her enthusiasm and hugged her back.

“You look great too,” I said as I glanced around the room. “Actually, everyone looks pretty great, to be honest.” I reached for one of the glasses of water on the table and gulped some down.

“Especially us girls,” Jenna said before laughing a little too loudly and sitting back down.