Page 9 of Sam & Justin (Gomillion High Reunion #4)

Reunion - Friday Night

Justin walked off with the woman with the nice arms. I noticed the way people’s eyes followed him, and I wondered what it was like to have that kind of pull.

That had never been me. Only time people really paid attention to me when I was younger was when I was acting out, but Justin?

He had the ability to get people to look at him without doing anything. He had always been well liked.

I remembered back in high school, seeing him in the halls.

He wasn’t one of the popular jocks or anything, but he was always talking to someone different.

I was pretty sure he had friends in all the different social circles.

Not at all like me, who most people avoided.

My reputation preceded me and all that, and twenty years later, it didn’t seem like much had changed.

Justin tapped the microphone, and conversation all but stopped.

“Good evening,” he started. “I hope everyone’s been having a great time catching up with old friends and enjoying the food.

Thank you to Gomillion High’s culinary students for providing such amazing food and service.

” There was a polite smattering of applause around the room.

So, that’s who the teenagers who’d been roped into this thing were—students in some culinary program that hadn’t existed twenty years ago.

Once the applause died down, which didn’t take too long, Justin continued.

“We’ve got two more activities planned for you tonight.

The first is a music trivia game. You’ll get into teams, and then we’ll play snippets of music from high school.

Consult with your team and then write down the song title and artist on the paper.

The winning team will get a season pass to the park’s concert series this summer. ”

No one made a move. Justin seemed to notice it at the same time I did, and he was looking nervous up there all of a sudden.

I watched as he started rubbing at the back of his neck, and I wondered if he had some kind of anxiety issue.

He’d been pretty freaked out when Theo Brooks had lost the supplies for the activity that I was just now realizing was this one.

Vanessa seemed to notice it too, and she stepped up to the microphone. “So, everyone, get into teams. Then, come up and get your supplies.”

She clapped her hands together twice, and it was like it unlocked the entire former student body.

I watched as people formed small groups.

I wasn’t too surprised that no one came up to me, and I wasn’t making any moves to join in any of their groups either.

Not like season tickets to a concert series in Gomillion was much of a lure for me.

I didn’t live here, and I didn’t intend to spend my summer driving down to watch some local bands play at the town park.

No way in hell.

One person from each of the teams walked to the podium and came back with papers and pens.

I felt like I was back in high school, watching the well-adjusted kids participating in shit that was happening while I stood off to the side.

Guess some things didn’t change. I knew what I’d have told any of my clients who brought up something like this.

I’d encourage them to join in, but then, they were young.

They weren’t so set in their ways and like I’d already said: I was never much of a joiner.

Once all the teams had their stuff, Justin started the event.

I recognized the first song immediately, and I was pretty amused watching everyone around me struggle to find the right answer.

By the time the fifth song came around, it was obvious that half the teams didn’t remember jack shit about the music we grew up with.

It was also pretty clear that I would’ve swept the contest if I’d been playing.

I recognized all the songs. I caught myself mouthing the words a few times, and I think Justin saw me doing it too, because he kept looking over at me curiously.

I guess the fact that I liked music never came up when we were younger. That made sense since most of our conversations back then had been about math or history or whatever other subject I was struggling with.

The game came to an end, and after the scores were tallied, Justin announced the winner.

I watched as a group cheered and acted like it was some kind of big deal that they’d gotten most of the songs right.

Maybe I was feeling a bit smug because I was pretty sure I would’ve beat them if I’d been playing.

Vanessa handed each of the team members an envelope, and everyone clapped again.

Then Justin was back at the microphone. “Congratulations to our winners.” More polite applause.

“We have one more thing planned while you all mingle. If you notice on our back wall,” he raised a hand to indicate the wall covered in pictures, “we’ve collected memories from the yearbook archives and from all of you.

We’ve tried to get some of everyone. We invite you all to go back and check out the pictures.

While we were playing the music trivia game, our student volunteers put out slips of paper, pens, and tape for each of you to come up with captions or write memories for the pictures. ”

I somehow doubted that there’d be any shots of me on the wall. I wasn’t really one to pose for pictures back in high school, and I couldn’t see any of my friends sending in any of their old photos.

“And after everything wraps up here, Timbers and Tallboys has a few drink and snack specials. They’ll be open until midnight, and everyone is invited to go over there and carry on with the festivities.

Campus tours will begin at 9 AM for anyone interested in seeing all the changes made to the school.

” He shifted on the stage, and I noticed everyone was still looking right at him.

They were just as captivated by him as I was, but something told me, none of them were reliving high school crushes listening to him talk.

Or hell, maybe they were. I couldn’t blame them, obviously.

But once again, he looked a bit put off that no one was moving around.

“Okay, so, uh yeah, go look at the pictures.”

An appreciative laugh rippled through the crowd, and people started moving. Instead of joining them, I found myself walking toward Justin. I was waiting for him by the time he finished chatting up Vanessa and stepped out from behind the podium.

“You knew all the songs,” he commented.

“I like music,” I told him with a shrug.

“Then why didn’t you join a team? You could’ve led them all to victory.”

It was the same kind of thought I had, but it sounded different coming from his lips. We started walking toward the crowd gathered at the wall of pictures. “Didn’t really want to,” I answered him plainly. “Not like I got much use for a season pass to a concert series here.”

Justin nodded his head, like he could see my point. Guess that was a good thing, because I wasn’t always all that good at making clear ones. “You’re not much of a joiner, right?”

“Right,” I agreed. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, like it could stop the next words from coming out. It didn’t. “Besides, only person I really wanted to talk to was leading the activity. More fun watching you up there.”

He turned beet red again. The color pretty much wiped the freckles right off his face.

I was polite enough not to mention it, though I kind of liked the fact that I was the reason he was turning colors.

I wanted to see what he’d end up saying to that, but I ended up disappointed.

He didn’t say anything, just grabbed a few slips of paper and two pens and handed one to me.

Not that I was going to need it. I didn’t have a lot of positive memories with most of the people on the wall, and I didn’t think I’d see myself there.

I saw a lot of pictures of him, though. There were pictures of him laughing with his friends or studying in the library.

There was a picture of him standing next to his high school campaign posters, looking proud.

Damn, he really had changed a lot since high school.

“I forgot how scrawny I was,” he muttered.

That was one of the biggest changes. I swallowed down the words I wanted to say about how he’d looked good back in high school.

I didn’t need to make shit weird by pointing out the fact that I had a giant ass crush on him when we were kids.

It was in the past, and while I thought I caught him looking at me a few times the same way I was looking at him, some things were just better left unsaid.

Instead, I looked at more of the pictures, all the way up until my eyes landed on one of me.

“Shit, how the fuck you get this one?” It was a picture of me and two of my old friends, sitting on a picnic table.

I could see the faint tendrils of cigarette smoke coming up from under the table.

I didn’t remember when the picture was taken, but it could’ve been almost any day.

Me and my friends had spent a lot of our lunch breaks out at the picnic tables, sneaking cigarettes and trying to hide them when a teacher came by.

Guess we really weren’t all that smooth.

“No idea,” Justin said after a moment. He looked baffled as he studied the picture with me. “I don’t even remember hanging this one up.”

“Maybe one of your helpers did it?”

“Maybe,” he agreed. He studied the picture a few seconds longer, and I was tempted to write a caption.

At least name the friends that were in it, like it would prove we had existed.

Like it would prove that we were all here once upon a time, but the picture was proof enough, wasn’t it?

“We could’ve found it in the yearbook archives.

Or maybe one of your friends submitted it. ”