Page 4 of Sam & Justin

“I’m divorced. I spend my nights watching TV. I don’t remember the last time I’ve gone on a date.”

He nudged me in the shoulder. “You think you’d let your clients talk shit about themselves? Act like they haven’t done shit?”

I groaned. I fucking hated when Axel pulled that card on me. “So, you think I should go, huh?”

“I think you should go,” he confirmed. “Think you should go and show people that you turned out better than they ever thought you would.” He grinned a wicked grin. “Then I think you should fuck some guy there. Have a one night stand with some guy you crushed on back in the day that you ain’t gonna talk to again, you know?”

I laughed. “Always comes back to finding someone to fuck with you, doesn’t it?”

“Nah.” He took a sip of his beer, “But in this case? Fuck yeah it does.” I shot him a questioning look, because I didn’t see why it would get afuck yeahon this one. “Look man, you don’t put yourself out there. Not since you and Tim split. Sometimes, I think you’re still hung up on that jackass.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not still hung up on Tim.”

He didn’t look like he believed me.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I should go to the reunion, find some hot hookup, and prove to him that I wasn’t still pining for my ex. Prove to everyone in my hometown that I wasn’t the piece of shit they all thought I’d grow into.

I kept thinking about it all night, and when I got home, I sent in the RSVP.

Looked like I was going back to Gomillion.

2

May - One Week Until the Reunion

There was only a week left until my high school reunion.

For most people, that would mean a week of packing and confirming that their travel arrangements were in place. It would mean a week of texting with their high school friends and trying to make plans, or maybe they’d spend the week trying to figure out how to make their lives sound more impressive than they really were. For me, it was a week of trying not to pull my hair out. It meant a week of stress and sleepless nights.

That was the life of a former class president, I guess.

Luckily, I still lived in Gomillion. I didn’t have to worry about finding a place to stay. I didn’t have to worry that the only good hotel in town would be booked up or my flight would be delayed, and I’d miss the opening reception. Instead, I had to worry aboutissues with the food and florists. I had to worry about the fact that the custom balloons we’d ordered from the party supply store a town over hadn’t come in yet and might not make it in time for Saturday night’s prom. I had to worry about vegan food options for the receptions and prom and special drink menus at Timbers and Tallboys, the local pub. I had to worry about last minute RSVPs from people who didn’t think the deadline applied to them and justhopingwe had enough food to feed everyone.

In other words, I had to focus all of my energy on planning the event and a to do list that had clearly descended from the mythological Hydra. Every time I crossed something off of it, two more tasks popped up. I didn’t think I’d get everything done, even with the help of my trusty co-conspirator, Vanessa Smythe Newton. She was the current assistant principal of Gomillion High School and my man on the inside. Unfortunately, it meant that she wasn’t able to help out during the school day.

I wouldn’t have been able to either if I hadn’t taken the week off from my day job at City Hall. Even while on vacation, my phone was blowing up with texts and emails. Rachel Mendoza, the Gomillion City Planner and my immediate boss, was the kind of woman who was always in charge of everything. She was independent and took no shit from anyone. She was also, apparently, a lot more dependent on me than I thought. Or maybe my organization system was just a pain in the ass for her.

Either way, I wasthisclose to blocking her number for the week.

Okay, I wasn’t. I replied to every text message and email. I might have been a workaholic. There was a good chance that three ex-boyfriends and two ex-girlfriends were entirely correct. They’dall thought I made myself too available to my boss and not available enough for them. It was just one of the many reasons most of my partners broke up with me.

When my phone chimed for the seventeenth time that day, I was tempted to throw it out of my car window. Instead, I stole a glance at the notification on my screen. It was from Vanessa, and it contained only three characters: 911.

Fuck.

I hit the call button on my steering wheel. “What’s the emergency?” I asked as I braced myself for another disaster.

“Hello to you too,” Vanessa greeted with a laugh. I hated that she could laugh after sending a 911 text.

“Hi. What’s the emergency?”

“Remember how I said I could meet up with Mose tonight to confirm details for the after party?” I didn’t like where this was going. After a few moments of silence, she continued. “Josiah was supposed to be going to the school board meeting tonight, and he just told me he can’t make it. So, guess who gets to go instead?”

I groaned. “Seriously, V?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. I’ll handle it. Text Mose and let him know I’ll be there?”