The room buzzes with conversation, of which I hear snippets. “I have two kids . . .” “Then we moved to Grand Rapids . . .” “So what do you do?” And I wonder again what it would be like to be able to say I’ve been married for five years, have two kids, live in the suburbs.
I know I should mingle, especially because people will notice if I don’t. But I hesitate. Just signing in and getting my name tag was enough to send me straight to the bar. Yes, I’ve met Jennifer Aniston. No, I don’t know if she hates Angelina Jolie. Yes, I’m pretty much resigned to answering questions like this all night. But part of me is relieved. The more they ask about the latest celebrity gossip, the less they’ll ask about me.
Rachel texts me that she and John are on their way up and I’m glad when I see them walk in, hand in hand. Rachel smiles apprehensively as she makes her way toward me. I take in her simple black dress and diamond earrings, the ones John gave her for their ten-year anniversary. Her shoulder-length chocolate brown hair flows freely and I can see from here that she spent considerable time perfecting her makeup, making her green eyes sparkle. She looks beautiful.
I wave them over and watch the envious glances as they walk my way, one of very few high school sweetheart couples from our class that passed the test of time. Back when I was still wondering which bar was hosting Ladies Night on Wednesday, Rachel and John were getting ready for their first baby. I’d begged her not to drop out of college when she discovered she was pregnant. She was so close to graduation. But no, she’d said, this is my life now.
I signal to Brian the bartender for two more drinks as Rachel and John approach. “Here’s to officially being old,” I call out as I hand one to each of them. John brings me in for a small side hug as he takes a large gulp.
“What’s up, Little C?” he says, using the nickname he gave me in high school. I’d met John my freshman year when I sat next to him in Mr. Roberts’s biology class. He was a total jock who’d transferred from out of state, and I‘d harbored a small crush on him at first. But he was literally speechless when I introduced him to Rachel for the first time at the water tower where we used to sneak to drink wine coolers with the upper classmen. And from that point on, they were an item and I was their third wheel. But I didn’t mind. John always looked out for me like a big brother and some of my best memories were of the three of us together.
I reach over and poke Rachel in the arm. “You look nice.”
She touches her simple black dress self-consciously. “Thanks. You sure it’s okay? I don’t look old?”
“You are the one person who doesn’t have to worry about that. You look exactly the same!”
“What do you mean?” Her tone lets me know this wasn’t the right thing to say. But it’s true. Rachel could throw on her old cheerleading uniform and blend right in, her dark hair still worn in the same style, and not a single crease in her un-Botoxed forehead. Meanwhile, I hadn’t been able to lift my eyebrows properly in years.
John steps in before I can answer. “She means it as a compliment.”
She shoots him a death stare. “Stay out of it.”
John turns to me. “She’s upset about the ballot.”
“The ballot?” I ask.
“You know when you checked in downstairs and they gave you a name tag? They also handed out a ballot. We’re supposed to vote—”
Rachel cuts him off. “We’re supposed to vote on things like who traveled the farthest . . .”
“Well, I can see how that would be incredibly upsetting,” I say, laughing.
“Let me finish. There’s also other awards like most successful and least successful.”
“Least successful? Are you kidding me?” Brian was right. These things really do bring out the worst in people.
“No. There’s not a least successful award. That’s just what Rachel thinks it is.” John rolls his eyes like she’s not standing there. “It’s called Least Changed.”
“Same thing.” Rachel crosses her arms over her chest looking even more like an eighteen-year-old.
“Anyway,” John continues. “Since the moment we checked in, people have been marveling at how she hasn’t changed a bit and she’s afraid she’ll win the award.”
“Didn’t you guys just get here? Like five minutes ago?”
“All the more reason why I think I’m going to win,” Rachel says, looking terrified.