Author's note: Thank you to Jax for your inspiration!
Julie took one last look in the mirror. God, she hated fluorescent lighting. Even with the slight tan she'd managed to acquire she looked like Casper, or his much older sister. Well, at least she was having a halfway decent hair day, nothing hanging out of her nose. Eyeliner and mascara were on and unsmudged. Lipstick was in place - subtle, but inviting and none on the teeth. No spinach there either, though come to think of it she hadn't eaten anything yet today. She'd been too nervous. Why was she nervous?! It was just a silly happy hour. Sure, she hadn't seen most of the other attendees in ten years or more, but Heavens, she'd known them most of her life. And, fluorescent lighting notwithstanding, she had to acknowledge the past ten years had been favorable to her appearance. She'd been a bit of a late bloomer. Not that she was hideous in high school. But even as she'd entered college, she'd still carried the awkwardness of adolescence with her. Now, the image staring back at her was of an attractive, polished, young woman...sexy even, she had to admit, as she cocked an eyebrow. The dress she'd chosen accentuated her slender figure and skimmed her smooth, shapely legs just above the knee. She'd always thought her legs were her best assets. They looked long and lean now. The strappy heels helped. Yes. Yes, she did look good!
"All right, enough with the primping and preening," Julie thought. "Onward to face the crowd." To face: him. No! Not him! Not JUST him, anyway. Who knew if he'd even be there? He probably wouldn't. He wasn't much for nostalgia. He'd never been much of a joiner. Not that he was anti-social, just not so caught up in the social scene. Anyway, why was she even worried about it? It didn't matter whether he was there or not. She hadn't seen him in years. Three years and three months, actually, but who was counting? She was here to have fun, to see old friends and catch up on their lives. Who was married? Who had kids? Who was working where? God, she hoped Cindy and Diane had arrived. She needed some moral support. Should have ridden with them. Oh well...
Out in the bar, Julie saw several familiar faces. She nodded, smiled, and waved, as she picked her way to the bar. It was definitely time for a drink. Maybe several. Maybe four or five tequila shots... No, that probably wouldn't be good, not on an empty stomach. Sloppy drunk bad. She may be reuniting with her classmates, but she didn't want to actually re-live the high school social scene. How had any of them survived all that drunken debauchery?
"Ah, here we are," Julie said to herself.. "I'll have a glass of Piesporter, please," she told the bartender as he grinned. He was cute, actually, if not a little young. She scanned the room again. Saw Cindy and Diane over at a table. Diane caught her eye and waved at her. She saluted.
The bartender set her glass on the bar. "That'll be $4.00, Ma'am." Ma'am? Ma'am??!!! Sheesh. She was only 28. What was with the Ma'am crap?! She rummaged through her purse for some cash, thinking, "There goes your big tip, junior."
She looked up, and caught a pair of eyes coolly appraising her from the other side of the bar. HIS eyes. Damn! Damn, damn, DAMN! He wasn't supposed to be here! She'd half convinced herself he wouldn't be. Now what was she going to do??!! Pay for her drink, smile casually and go over to sit with her friends, THAT'S what she was going to do. She pulled a ten out of her purse and handed it to the bartender, absently waving for him to keep the change. "Thank YOU," he said, his grin bigger than ever. She ignored him. She gave her best Mona Lisa smile to the pair of eyes across the bar, turned, and headed to the table. She managed to make it without tripping, thankfully, though how she'd never know. Her legs felt like jello.
"God, Julie - you look great!" Diane exclaimed.
"Thanks. So do you." It wasn't a lie. Diane was gorgeous. Naturally beautiful. Skinny and curvy at the same time. Never a hair out of place. Cindy had a quieter beauty. Something regal about her. Until she opened her mouth.
"Got your fuck-me heels on, I see. Hopin' anyone will take you up on that??!"
"Shut up, Cindy." She said it with affection. Both Cindy and Diane had been her closest friends since ninth grade. They still talked by phone almost every day.
Cindy had obviously caught the quiet exchange at the bar. She didn't miss much. "So, you gonna talk to him, or what?"
"Him WHO?" Julie asked, wide-eyed.
"Him. Mr.-I've-been-in-love-with-him-half-my-life, him," Cindy countered.
"I have NOT been in love with him half my life. I didn't even know him when I was fourteen. I met him when I was sixteen."
"Yeah, yeah - I know. I was there, remember?" came Cindy's exasperated growl.
"Besides," Julie continued her denial, "I have nothing to say to him. It's all already been said. I've moved on. Screw him!"
"Speaking of which," Diane chimed in, "why didn't you? The way you two used to circle around each other, I can't believe you never did it!"
"I don't know. We just...the timing was never...we were never...we just...didn't." Her voice trailed off.
"Cryin' shame if you ask me," Cindy smiled, then continued, "Ah well, let's drink up, ladies. Pretty soon, we do need to start mingling with the rest of these losers."
All three raised their glasses. Julie gulped at the wine greedily and then had to stifle a choking fit. "Wine, not beer, dumbass," she reminded herself. "Guzzling doesn't work so well."
A waitress came by, and they ordered another round of drinks. Soon, several other friends had joined them at the table. Julie found herself relaxing and enjoying the conversation. Everyone seemed the same - but different. Better. More refined. More complete. Her third glass of wine was half gone. Suddenly, a cigarette sounded REALLY good. But Cindy was trying to quit and would kill her if she lit up in front of her.
Julie got up, excused herself, and made her way over to a side door. She slid outside, lit a cigarette, and inhaled. She really needed to give up the cigarettes. Nasty things. But sometimes… They were just so damn good. It was nice out. A beautiful night. Still warm, with a light breeze that had her skirt dancing flirtily around her legs. Whew. The wine was making her giddy.
She heard the door beside her open, and she tensed. She knew, without looking, who it was. An all too familiar voice said, "You know those are bad for you."
"Yeah," she said. "So are lots of things. Oh well." She sounded flippant. She hadn't meant to. She meant to sound calm, cool, collected, and utterly indifferent.
