He had moved here to live with his aunt and uncle, he told me – didn't explain what had driven him here in the first place, but frankly, I was crushing way too hard to think about that. He held my hand under the table, and, when he led me back out to his car, he kissed me for the first time.
That kiss had imprinted itself on my memory like a brand, the pressure of his lips on mine, of his hands on my waist, pulling me close, making sure that I knew how much he wanted me. I had to catch my breath when he pulled back, and he leaned his forehead against mine for a moment, closed his eyes, as though he was sealing this moment in his memory for good. I knew how he felt. It was everything that I needed it to be. And way more than that, too.
From there, we’d hold hands in school and hang out together every chance that we got. And I fell in love with him. So hard and so fast that I couldn’t control it. I loved him like crazy and he made me feel so loved in return.
And then, he had vanished.
And, right in this instant, I’m standing here, looking at the spot where we met for the first time, and feeling as though everything is about to come apart at the seams.
"Come on, let’s go inside, I want to get a drink," Liv tells me, and I snap back to reality as she tugs me towards the main hall. It is bright with lights, loud with chatter, and there is cute, tacky Valentine’s Day décor hanging up everywhere I look.
Inside, it doesn’t take long for people to start closing in on me to ask me what I am doing back here in the first place. It’s so strange, being around these people who I’ve known for my entire life, but haven’t seen in years. Liv does most of the talking, and I do most of the drinking.
People are friendly and curious and I do my very best to deflect the most intrusive of their questions. I know that people think that I should have some inside information on what happened to Baxter, but I have nothing, and when people push me for more, I find myself getting uncomfortable.
It’s hard not to think about the last Valentine’s Day dance I attended in this hall, the one that I shared with Baxter in our senior year. Swaying with him under the glittering lights, feeling like I was in a romance novel and could have stayed in its pages for the rest of my life. I never wanted it to end. His arms around me, the smell of his aftershave, the way he looked in his suit...
I take a sip of my drink, the cheap punch that’s been mixed up by the reunion organizers, and I turn to look across the gym. And that is, of course, when I see him.
Time stills.
I swear that the music stops.
I am sure, for an instant, that I am imagining this. He can’t be here. Can he?
But I know that it’s him. Baxter Ryder. Ten years later. Dressed in a lean-fitting suit, hair cropped short, showing off his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. His eyes find mine, and I feel the soles of my feet prickle. He is as hot as ever. Maybe even hotter. I can feel my cheeks starting to flush, and I know that everyone here is looking at me. That everyone here is wondering how I am going to react.
And honestly, I have no idea. I realize that I am holding my breath, and I break eye contact with him, turn away. I can’t do this. Not right now.
I put down the paper cup that I have been drinking from and hurry towards the bathroom. I just need a second.
Because if I keep looking at him any longer, I am not going to be able to keep my head on straight.
4
Baxter
I see her.
It feels as though a lifetime has passed since I last saw her, but there she is. As gorgeous as ever. Talking with some of her old cheerleader friends, her shoulder-length blonde hair brushing her bare skin where her dress exposes a few inches here and there. It shows a generous amount of cleavage, her muscular, toned body still as gorgeous as ever.
And she sees me.
As soon as our eyes lock, I know that she is as confused as I am right now. There’s so much that I want to say to her, and I have no idea where the hell I am going to start.
The way she is looking at me right now, that doubt and confusion in her eyes, reminds me of the spring break before we finished high school. Lying on my cousin’s boat, staring at the clear blue sky above us, her head on my chest as I toyed with her hair and tried not to think about how damn sexy she looked in that bikini. Both of us had turned eighteen in the last couple of months, and we were getting to that point where we had to talk about what came after high school.