Page 23 of Sam & Justin

“Or you could,” I suggested.

He didn’t look all that pleased at the suggestion, but I noticed the colorful pamphlet was still in his hand as we entered the hallway. By the time we made it to the culinary arts classroom, he had folded it up and stuck it in his pocket. I almost wished we could detour back to the office so he could get all of them. Clearly, whichever one he grabbed had caught his interest. Maybe he could find ways to improve the others.

Or maybe I was overstepping, thinking of ways to fit him into my world when that wasn’t what he wanted.

9

Reunion - Saturday Morning

I really hadn’t planned on going on the school tour. I didn’t give a shit about the ways the school changed over the past twenty years. It wasn’t like I didn’t know there’d be changes; I just didn’t think there’d be any that I cared about. I hadn’t cared about the things the school had going on when I was there. Now that I wasn’t a student, I didn’t have any need to know what new tech the students had or any of that.

I planned on grabbing a bite to eat at the diner and heading in for the basketball game. Not that I cared much for basketball either, but I figured it’d give me a chance to talk to Justin more. Wasn’t like he was going to be leading that. Unless he’d really changed since high school, I didn’t think he’d be down on the floor trying to show up a bunch of teenagers with his skill.

But then Justin went and left his phone on my bathroom counter. Sure, I could’ve dropped it off with him at the game, but there was a missed call from his boss, and I didn’t want him getting in trouble. At least, that’s what I was gonna say if anyone got too curious. Really, I was just taking the excuse to see him a bit early.

Had some regrets about that while I was waiting for him to get back from the first tour. Especially when that Vanessa lady tried to send me off in a group led by some zit covered teen. Almost went, just because I didn’t want to find out if those muscles in her arms were just for show or if she packed a mighty punch. She seemed pleased when I said I was waiting for Justin though, especially when I said I had his phone.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that last part. Should’ve been more concerned by the fact that she’d figure out that we’d hooked up, but something about the look in her eyes said that maybe she already knew. I didn’t know why that made me so pleased, the idea that he was telling his friends about what we’d got up to the night before. I already knew I’d be telling Axel when I got home. He’d be proud of me.

The tour itself was as boring as I thought it would be. I appreciated the fact that Justin tried to pull me in, get me involved, but I didn’t think anyone really paid me much mind. They didn’t give a shit what some therapist from another small town thought about the brochures teenagers were getting in this one, but I recognized the good intentions. Maybe I’d take his suggestion and mention the hotline thing to Vanessa.

Probably not.

The tour came to an end, but I didn’t get to spend one-on-one time with Justin. He had to run off to get some last minute shit figured out for the alumni basketball game.

I just stayed in the lobby, minding my own business and texting Axel, all the way up until everyone else started moving out toward the gym. I followed behind them, listening to everyone chatter on around me. I felt like I was back in high school again, walking down the halls with no one talking to me but getting my fair share of strange looks. At least I wasn’t stuck wondering what the hell I was doing there anymore.

I already knew.

I was still there because I wanted to spend more time with Justin before I went back home to King’s Bay. Really play out the whole fantasy of being with the guy I liked back then. It was like some kind of do-over.

And at least, judging by the smells coming from the concession stand, I could do-over some of the snacks I liked from the few games I’d attended. I hadn’t gone out of some love for the game. I’d gone because it was the best place to figure out where the parties were, because a shit load of them started at the basketball games. I never really understood why that was, but when I needed to get wasted on cheap beer, it was the quickest way to find out where I could find it. There were a few other games I got dragged to by girls I’d been dating, but none of them had been too interested in watching the game.

I used to spend more time pretending to like the sport during those games. Anything was better than having to play pretend about liking some girl more than I did.

The moment I got into the gym, I made my way to the concession line. My mouth was watering for one of the pretzels they used to sell, and I was really hoping the recipe hadn’t changed in the last twenty years. Judging by the school tour, it probably had. Everything else had changed, so why shouldn’t the one thing I’d actually liked about the school have gone the same way?

But I got in line anyway. I expected it to be like all the other times I was standing around at the reunion, but it wasn’t. One of the guys that had been on our tour was in line behind me, and he started chatting to me. “Kirkwood said you’re a therapist?”

I didn’t realize he was talking to me at first, but when I did, I turned to look at the guy. It took me a moment to place him in my memories. I couldn’t remember his name, but I remembered him. We’d been in auto shop together, but he’d spent too much time chatting up his friends in there and bitching about getting grease on his clothes to really learn anything. I wondered if that had changed in the past twenty years. Not that it mattered. He was asking about my career, not asking about the work me and Axel did on our bikes.

“Yeah, working with kids mostly.”

“How did you get into that?”

It was the standard run of the mill ice breaking questions, but it was a welcome break from being treated like I was some kind ofpariah. He was probably the first person, other than Justin, to realize I wasn’t the same guy I’d been back in the day. “Kids need someone to talk to. Life’s tough for a lot of them,” I told him with a shrug of my shoulders. I knew better than most. I tried to be one of the people I needed back when I was younger. “That, and I really liked my psych classes when I went to college.”

“Is that where you went when you left Gomillion?”

I snorted. “Not a chance in hell. Didn’t end up in college til my mid-twenties. Worked a shit load of dead end jobs before then, and frankly, I got tired of smelling like fry oil.”

It was his turn to snort. “I think that’s something we all experience. I worked at this terrible diner when I was in undergrad, and it didn’t matter how many times I showered—”

“The smell still lingered,” I finished for him. He nodded, and there was a beat that felt a bit too awkward. “So, uh, what did you go to college for?”

“Social work.”

Well, that explained why he was talking to me. “I ended up going that route, too, in the end. Talked to a counselor about what I wanted to do, and he said that was the best path if you wanted to do the kind of work I was aiming for. You a therapist, too?”