Shelley and James (part 3)
She did eventually call him, some ten days later. She tried to get him during his lunch break, but he was just about to head out to an appointment so he said to call another time. She waited until the weekend and called Saturday afternoon. One of the housemates answered; James was out with friends. She tried again the next day, but James had not come home from the night before. She figured she knew what that meant (either one friend in particular, or he had time for other people but not her; amounted to the same thing) and left it for a good two weeks before trying one final time. She got him just as he was leaving work. He wouldn't be free for a while yet, he said, because he was going for a promotion, which meant lots of ass-kissing and extra hours.
He never called her, and she didn't have the courage to call him. Weeks turned into months and she got involved with someone else and got over the hurt, but continued to wonder what might have happened. She occasionally saw people from school and wanted to ask if any of them ever saw James, but always bit it back, because nothing had actually happened between them, so she didn't, she felt, have any right to impinge on his life, even in so remote and vague a way as asking after him via former peers.
Months turned into years, relationships came and went, but every now and then she'd think of James and wonder what he was up to - surely married by now, surely with a couple of kids, a house, maybe a dog and a boat and a timeshare holiday apartment by the sea.
She went to the next two high school reunions but James wasn't at either of them. He wasn't the only face absent - many people had moved interstate or overseas and were rarely if ever heard from again. It wasn't unusual, and at the second reunion she actually found she was somewhat relieved not to have to deal with James and his wife/girlfriend/partner and whatever irrational jealousy she would no doubt be feeling.
When the fourth reunion rolled around, Shelley was in two minds about going. It was a fair way from home, by public transport, it was going to be a right pain in the arse to get back from (at 3am, if the event was any good), she didn't have a whole lot of money to spare for drinks, and she was even starting to feel rather jaded by this whole nostalgia thing - nobody was going to be the same as they'd been before, so truly, what was the point? The people who kept in touch anyway probably wouldn't bother to attend, so that would only leave the fringe dwellers, the weirdos and the nerds and the general freak population who never spoke to each other at school in the first place.
She did go, in the end. She agonised about what to wear before chosing black jeans, a dark blue ruffled shirt, Birkenstocks and moderately expensive dangly earrings. She was much too early and sat awkwardly with the two guys and two girls who used to be the high achievers in 4 Unit maths (and therefore a world away from her) until some more familar faces came through the door and she could actually have a conversation with someone.
Two or three hours and twice as many drinks later she saw one of her former best friends enter with two guys, neither of whom she recognised. She assumed one was her friend's current partner and the other, maybe just a friend, or their designated driver, something like that. Fortunately she was saved from excruciating embarrassment when her friend jogged her memory: "Oh, that's Donald, you know, used to go out with Jenna? He left in Year 10. And that's James. You remember James. Wasn't he in your History class?"
She stared. James?? That was James?? She stared, and just about drooled. He hadn't been her type ten years earlier, but now? He used to be so angular, so wiry-skinny, with masses of floppy hair and a slightly mean look around the eyes. Now he was a little overweight, with a crewcut and sideburns, and his eyes were all twinkly. If she hadn't been at their blasted high school reunion, nothing would have stopped her from trotting across the floor and propositioning him. But the last thing she wanted was to fracture her cool exterior, to look any less poised than she had convinced herself everyone believed her to be. So she waited. Eventually he worked his way around the room to her vicinity.
"Hey, James, how are you! Good to see you, dude."
"I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name."
"Shelley."
"Shelley? Shel- Oh! Shelley. Shelley. I remember. How are you?"
To her surprise he kissed her cheek. Some of the other guys had done this (with her and most of the females) and everyone knew it didn't mean anything, it was just being polite, but still...
"Oh, you know, the usual. Muddling along."
"Married?"
"Nah. Don't think I will. It's not really me. I used to think I would, one day, but it's not such a big deal. You?"
"Yeah, and divorced."
"Sorry to hear that. Any kids?"
"No. Just as well. She was a fucking psycho by the end of it."
"Can I buy you a drink?"
She watched his face carefully while she said this, to see if he really remembered her (in context). There was a flicker of something, a hint of a smile, and she wasn't sure, but he nodded, and this got them away from everyone else, just a little, but enough to speak with lowered voices and still be heard.
"Did you ever get that promomtion?"
"What promotion?"
"Ten years ago. You were going for a promotion so you were really busy. We fell out of touch."
He dragged his hand down his face and sighed.
"I was being a prick. I thought you wanted a relationship and I was too much of an asshole to be straight with you, so I pissed you about."
"Y'know, it's nice that you remember. And it's nice that you're being straight now. It's okay. I'm not gonna make a big deal about it. Just... I would wonder about you sometimes, how you were. I wasn't expecting to see you here. I'd given up on ever seeing you again, I guess."
"And you're pleased to see me now?"
"Hell, yes! I mean... uh, geez. Well, it's nice to be able to have a chat like regular human beings, y'know?"
"So if I was to ask you back to mine later, you'd say...?"
"Well, I wouldn't say no."
So they stood there, grinning like fools, and lost their place at the bar. Shelley could not believe how easy it had been, what a difference ten years made, that she was actually standing there talking to James, and they now seemed to have genuine chemistry.
"Don't take this the wrong way," she would tell him later, "But I didn't even fancy you at first, I just thought it was nice that you were interested. Then, when you weren't interested any more, I cried and cried. I've never understood that."
In the morning, while he was buttering toast and she was trying to untangle her hair without a decent comb, she suddenly realised they'd left so abruptly she'd totally forgotten to say goodbye to everyone else. Something for them to gossip about until next time, I guess, she whispered to the mirror, smiling.