This is clearly a fictional story, and all names have been entirely fictionalized.
Howard wasn't really the high-school reunion type. In his mind, the whole thing reeked of desperation. But a unique desperation: one full of people who thought that a fresh shave and some car wax would hide the fact that they had spent the last 10 years slowly going down hill before giving up their dreams and getting into real-estate.
He wasn't really the high school type either for that matter. He didn't have many fond memories of the Sampson City High class of 2042, as he had spent most of the experience trying to go unnoticed. It was a delicate balancing act for him really. He was always smart enough to breeze through most classes, but he couldn't look too smart, lest some teacher with a dream of helping an underprivileged child might jump up and get him enrolled in "gifted" classes in order to satisfy their own ego. He was sure he could have excelled in these too, but couldn't sit with the idea of being part of a group that advertised genius as part of their identity while most of their IQ's still fell within one standard deviation of the mean.
As he had matured, he realized that this was just a subconscious defense mechanism for an unhealthy jealousy rooted in the fact that he didn't know his own identity. He played football, but he wasn't a jock. He smoked, but wasn't a stoner. He played music, but wasn't a band geek. And if you're imagining that smooth Fonzi character that could bounce from group to group and be loved by all, well he wasn't that either. Imagine the opposite of that. Somehow he managed to have common interests with people everywhere, but never really found a way to fit in. Socializing was almost a necessary evil to partake in the activities that he enjoyed. So why would he choose to revisit four years of what could only be described as an awkward and isolating experience?
His friend, Ted Davis, had talked him into it. By some happenstance they were paired together in their psychiatric residency and hit it off after not having much of a relationship with each other in school. Howard recalled the conversation that got him here as he sat against the bar alone. He was initially pretty obstinate about the whole thing, but Ted had made some good points. For one, there was an open bar, which Howard was currently taking advantage of. Secondly, he was essentially what everyone wanted to be for their high school reunion.
By most objective measures he had grown more attractive with age. He wasn't bad looking back then either, but he had gotten into weightlifting after a break up five years ago, and his previously awkward stubble had grown into a full, thick beard. This, coupled with a vast improvement in his previously closed off personality and a budding career in an extremely lucrative profession, had made him quite a catch. As Ted had put it, "While everyone else is holding on to what they used to be, you're being what you never were!"
As things were playing out though, it seemed like no one recognized him well enough to congratulate him on his successes in post secondary life. He couldn't blame them either. He wasn't outgoing to begin with, and even if someone did remember him, he looked like a whole different person. He imagined that people figured he was someone's plus-one.
Meanwhile, Ted had broken off with a group of old friends to visit the 'Way Back Machine' -- a relatively new party attraction that was somewhat akin to a photo booth from out of a science fiction movie. Howard had never been in one personally, but the general concept was that it tapped into your neural pathways and allowed you to vividly relive memories of times you shared with anyone else in the booth. From the looks of things, it seemed to be the highlight of the affair.
Having developed into a psychiatric nerd in his adulthood, Howard personally thought it a bit of a waste that something so groundbreaking would be primarily marketed as a party favor. With a few tweaks and advancements, he could see serious implications for the technology in trauma,relational therapy, dementia...the possibilities were endless. Regardless of the current uses, it would be an understatement to say that he was interested in the device. It was half the reason that Ted had gotten him to come. The only problem with this was that he couldn't readily identify anyone that he had shared any positive memories with.
If anything, the familiar faces around him did nothing but bring back awkward interaction after awkward interaction, which had the effect of melting away the confidence and positive self-esteem that he had built up over the past several years. And what did this, more than anything, were the women that he had dropped the ball with.
In keeping with the rest of his personality at the time, he did not so much as go on a date or share a kiss with a girl during his years at Sampson City High. It wasn't for lack of opportunity either. As mentioned before, he wasn't a half bad looking guy, even in the awkward post pubescent phase. It's just that something about the 'guy's make the first move' thing didn't click until later in life.
He spent most of his teenage years thinking he might have some personality or anxiety disorder, but it turned out that, as in most other areas of his life, the pressure of high school just wasn't good for his dating life. He had later come to learn that he was more suited to getting to know a woman over time. In keeping with his profession, he enjoyed a long meaningful conversation about the inter-workings of someone's personality just as much, if not more, than a night in bed together. This didn't serve him well in his adolescent years, as any hesitation generally left way for 10 other guys with piranha like pick up lines to scoop in, which left him with a pervasive feeling of inferiority. Fortunately, he found that his adult partners enjoyed the mindful attention that he brought to their conversations, and he didn't lack for intimate relationships in recent years.
Still, he sometimes felt that he had missed out on the fast and careless flings of the American bildungsroman. He mentally kicked himself as he looked around the room at the women that had taken a clear interest in him only for him to clam up in response. Natalia Bennett....Laura Freeman....Jaime Rollinger....He tried not to be too shallow about the whole thing, but it did ease his mind a bit that most of them seemed to have gained a few pounds and lost a step or two. Just about the time that he found some solace in this thought, he looked across the way to see Macy Taylor.
He wouldn't have quite described Macy as a high school crush, but this was mostly just because he had considered her out of his league. It wasn't until she started unexpectedly dropping hints towards him that he developed a certain infatuation. Unfortunately, this eventually turned to a sense of shame after he lacked any ability to appropriately express interest in her even after the most obvious advances on her part.
At the time, she was known for her Zumba and cardio classes at the local gym. They were programmed for women, but other the other guys in school had been known to sign up before the gym administration started screening them out. Apparently she was a decent instructor, but her body alone would have been enough to fill the spots even if she was a bumbling idiot. During a locker-room like conversation between he and Ted that he was not personally the most proud of, Howard had remarked that she had an hourglass figure that was otherwise reserved for women in magazines. Ted had responded by informing him that she was now working as a fitness model. It showed.
She was wearing a tight blue dress that dipped low in the chest and showed off her curves beautifully. Howard watched her hips sway as she walked almost directly towards him, but with no acknowledgement of him in her face. He hated to admit it to himself, but he had almost forgotten that, apart from her incredible body, she had deep blue eyes and distinguished facial features that were even more striking now as she had grown into them.
He was expecting her to change course at some point or another, but she just kept walking towards him, blankly staring past him at the same time, until she eventually pulled up to an open space right next to him at the bar. He heard her order a vodka tonic and a white wine as he considered saying something to her. It was an odd experience for him. He'd been casually enjoying single life since his last breakup about a year ago, and despite his early-adolescent shyness, in this point in his life he would usually take this opportunity to strike up a conversation almost as a reflex. For some reason though, he found himself almost catapulted back into the social anxiety of his 16 year old self. Finally mustering up the courage, he lightly touched her on the shoulder.
"Macy? Macy Taylor right?"
Macy stared at him for a second, and just as he started to see a hint of embarrassment in her face, telling him that she did not remember him, she snapped into recognition. "Howard? Howard Perkins!"
She hugged him and pulled back, leaving her hands on his shoulders and smiling naturally at him as she studied his face for a second. "I would have never recognized you if you hadn't said anything! You just look so....different."
