Page 40 of Eva Reddy’s Trip of a Lifetime

I course corrected and headed to the bar to order myself a drink. I considered a Blue Lagoon for old times’ sake but opted for a gin and tonic instead. I would have preferred a glass of pinot but nothing good ever came from ordering from the wine list at a pub.

I stood in one corner, wishing Rachael had agreed to come along.

She’d insisted the reunion would be a nightmare of one-upmanship and nothing I said could change her mind.

It was a competition she intended to skip, although she said she was a shoo-in for a podium finish in the childless women’s division.

I was confident I’d nab the prize for most surprising underachiever. Unless the girl I edged out for top of the class was released from rehab for the night.

I sipped on my G&T and scanned the room. None of the faces looked familiar, which made no sense, given the amount of time we’d all spent together. But age and gravity—and in some cases, plastic surgery—had rendered everyone unidentifiable.

‘Eva?’

A very handsome man stood in front of me, wearing a designer T-shirt that cost more than my entire outfit put together, possibly including my engagement ring. I was sure I’d never seen him before. He was tanned, with perfect teeth and a smile as broad as his very impressive shoulders.

I stared at him, trying to place his face through the haze of fifteen years. Certainly, I didn’t remember anyone in my class with a body like that.

‘Rodney,’ he offered.

My face remained blank.

He tried again. ‘Rodney Halvorsen.’

‘Rodney! You look …’ What was the proper description here? Cut? Hot? Not at all like the nerd I remember? I went with the safest option. ‘Good. What are you doing with yourself nowadays?’

‘I started a health food company. Geek God Enterprises. Maybe you’ve heard of it?’

Of course I’d heard of it. The company is one of the biggest in Australia.

I tried not to look too stunned. Rodney had been in a few extension classes with me and his mother crammed his lunchbox full of grains and vegetables, but nothing from our time at school suggested he would grow up to become a multimillionaire wellness tycoon. Or hot.

‘Wow. That’s great, Rodney. Who would have thought all those appalling vegan birthday cakes could be parlayed into a successful career?

Good for you. And you obviously practise what you preach.

’ I gestured to his body, hoping I looked platonically impressed and not horny.

I wasn’t flirting, but the guy deserved credit. His transformation was remarkable.

‘Thanks. It comes with the territory. No one is going to buy my products if I am morbidly obese and bald.’

‘Well, I don’t know what’s in all those supplements of yours, but you look great.’ I glanced down at his hands. He was wearing a Rolex. ‘I guess you’re one of the few here who’s moved more than a few digits away from our school postcode.’

‘Five months in Point Piper. Five months in Thailand, where I own a health resort. And the rest of the time, I travel.’ He grinned, delighted that he had earned the approval of one of the kids who’d existed on the fringe of cool. ‘Life’s good.’

I was anxious to keep the conversation on a track that did not pass through station Eva. So, I kept firing off questions. With a bit of luck, Rodney would rabbit on about his kids and his job and completely forget to enquire about what was happening in my life.

‘And how about your mother?’

‘I came out when I was at university. It took Mum a while to get used to the idea but we’re sweet now.

’ Rodney was full of surprises tonight. ‘She even works in the business. She oversees our children’s products.

It’s not our most profitable division, but she’s passionate about tricking another generation of children into eating carob. ’

I was about to ask yet another follow-up question but this time, Rodney was too quick for me.

‘But what about you, Eva? What are you doing? You were always the girl most likely to do something incredible.’

I was cornered. I felt my cheeks warm. The only incredible thing about me is that I am incredibly ordinary.

I wondered if I should take a leaf from the Romy and Michele playbook and claim I invented the Post-it note or wrote books under the pen name Jodi Picoult.

I was trying to come up with a passable answer when Jonathan appeared by my side. He looped one arm around my waist protectively. Or possessively. He didn’t often come across anyone who matched him in poise and good looks.

‘She is an incredible wife to an incredible husband.’

‘You remember Rodney Halvorsen, don’t you?’ I was grateful that Jonathan’s arrival had saved me from answering Rodney’s question, but it made me feel even more like the postscript to the life of a successful man.

‘I remember Rashy Rodney.’ Jonathan offered his hand. ‘Do you still break out in hives every time the wind changes direction?’

Rodney’s face suggested he’d prefer not to shake Jonathan’s hand, but his mother had instilled good manners in him alongside a macrobiotic diet. ‘Not anymore. I grew out of it. Most of us do grow out of all that high school garbage.’ His voice was cold.

Jonathan didn’t react. I’m not sure he even caught Rodney’s sarcasm, too anxious to get back to the ‘cool’ crowd. He grabbed my hand.

‘Now, if you’ll excuse us, I want to show off my incredible wife to my old footy mates.’

The rest of the night dragged like some kind of accelerated groundhog day. Every ten minutes or so, someone asked me what I was doing. Then they attempted not to look too surprised or smug at my answer. Except one woman who did actually say the quiet part out loud.

‘I expected you to do more than just keep house and hold down an office job.’

All I could think to say was ‘I’m sorry.’

That’s right. I actually apologised for my mundane life. That was probably the low point of a uniformly miserable evening.

In the taxi home, I kept thinking about Rodney and all he had achieved.

There’s always one out-of-the-box success story in any school year and Rodney was it.

I closed my eyes and imagined a different life for myself, one where I was successful and travelled wherever the mood took me. A life that other people admired.

Jonathan interrupted my thoughts.

‘How much fun was that! I knew you’d enjoy yourself once you got there. We really need to see everyone more often. Maybe we could have a barbecue for the footy boys and their wives? You should start planning something.’

I pretended to be asleep.