The Agenda

“See? I told you,” Caroline announced as we propped open the heavy double doors. “No amount of sparkly streamers can make up for the fact that our 25-year class reunion is in the elementary school gymnateria.”

She was right. We’d dressed it up, but the room reeked of sweat, stale nachos and frozen brownies. When you decide two months until summer to hold a reunion, you take what you can get. I’d traded on my PTA president status to get this “venue,” in which we would be feasting on a giant sub, chips and generic sodas.

I had an agenda. Between the last reunion and this glorified picnic, I’d gotten divorced. So had my high school crush. I didn’t care if I had to throw him down on a juice-stained table in the same place my kids practice free throws; I was making my move. Yes, reunion hook-ups are pedantic, but they’re great for satisfying decades-old lust.

Rick had RSVP’d with Adam, so he wasn’t bringing a date. Those two have been best friends since middle school. They were both on our football team, enlisted jointly in the Marines and worked at the same tire plant. Adam was Rick’s best man and his son’s godfather. They were always together. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re bromance contributed to the breakup of Rick’s marriage.

The dress code was casual. I was wearing a tight sundress with a plunging neckline. It screamed “middle-aged and desperate,” and I was OK with that. I’d roped a reluctant Caroline into helping with the reunion and being my wingwoman. She was fully prepared to distract Adam with boobies and contraband booze.

We waited by the ball rack, which offered the best view of the entrance. Adam walked in first, and then Rick. I held my breath. Rick looked amazing. Although his hair was thinning, he was tall, tan and fit. He took Adam’s hand; their fingers intertwined.

Caroline and I looked at each other.

"Ah," we said in unison.

#

 

I wrote this short story for the trifecta writing challenge. It's my first time entering--just discovered this weekly competition yesterday. The entry must be 33-333 words and include the word "pedantic" (defined as unimaginative or pedestrian). Mine is 333 words exactly. BOO-YAH!