by Libby Klein
“Heyy, I know youuu.” He was back.
“Not now, Carl.” I held up my hand and he veered off to the right.
“Well, sadly Buffalo Gal hasn’t changed any.” Sawyer twisted a strand of her hair around her finger while scanning the room once more. “What do you think Amber meant by ‘I’m not doing this now, Jo’?”
I looked over to where Amber stood nursing her drink. She wore a bored expression while Joanne was poking a pudgy finger at an uncomfortable-looking Courtney Westbrae whom she had cornered over by the DJ. “Maybe she’s waiting for Barbie and the big meeting. You know how they feed off of each other.”
“Are you hungry? I could go to the buffet for us?”
How about instead you punch me in the face and we call it a night? If there is one thing I’ve never been comfortable doing in front of other people, it’s eating. Spending my whole life as a pudgy kid I’ve always felt that every bite was being scrutinized. Every cookie was judged harshly, and I always came out looking like a glutton no matter how much or how little passed my lips. The only acceptable meals to be seen eating as a fat kid are celery sticks and SlimFast shakes. “I don’t think I could eat anything knowing Tim could be close by.”
“I’m keeping my eyes open for him.”
I doubted Sawyer would notice Tim if he walked up and planted one full on her lips right now. She was pretty obsessed with spotting Kurt.
“I’m sure he’ll be stuck in the cafeteria working the buffet anyway,” she said absently.
A woman’s angry whispers floated around the corner. “Just don’t embarrass me tonight! I have to look good in front of these people. They idolize me.”
They were met with a man’s terse reply. “Look, you do you and I’ll do me, like always, okay.”
“I’m under a lot of pressure here. Everything has to go according to plan. Oh God, I need another drink.”
The whispers were followed by none other than the Queen “B” herself, Barbie, who shoved past us without so much as a how-do-ya-do. A sharp-dressed man following behind.
I watched them disappear over by the open bar. “Well, that was awkward.”
“There’s Kim and Connie!” Sawyer spotted the girls across the room at the bar and waved. They saw us and broke into big smiles and headed toward us. “I can’t believe she went through with it.”
Kim was wearing a vintage white bustier, and a puffy white lace skirt and fishnet stockings. She had on a six-inch crucifix, long white lace fingerless gloves, and a big white bow Madonna-style in her naturally curly, dirty-blond hair.
“Kim is crazy. Of course she went through with it. I would love just half of her boldness.”
“Hi! You made it!” First Kim enveloped me in a hug and then Connie. “We’re so glad you’re here. You both look gorgeous. Cool dress, Poppy. You’re wearing it ironically, right?”
“Sure. Let’s go with that.”
“Kim, your outfit is awesome. I love the rubber bracelets.” Sawyer was unabashedly gawking at the retro ensemble and Kim gave us all a twirl.
I felt the stares from around the room raking over my ruffles and feathers and I didn’t like it at all. What was I doing here?
People crowded into the gym, clumping for group shots to upload on Facebook. The geriatric air conditioner was fighting a death match to keep up with the oppressive humidity outside. I felt a trickle of sweat run down the center of my back. Spanx had been a bad idea. All they did was push the fat around so it popped out in different places like a tube of biscuit dough, and I couldn’t breathe. I tucked some side boob back into where it had popped out. There may as well have been a spotlight shining on me announcing to everyone “this one has escaped from Jenny Craig!”
Judging from the rumbling of the aluminum gym roof, the wind was really whipping up. I checked my watch to see how soon I could leave and go home.
We’d been here nineteen minutes.
“Can I have your attention, please?” We all turned to see a perky brunette on the little makeshift stage by the DJ holding a microphone. She was decked out in a full-length blue evening gown complete with formal white gloves and a diamond choker around her neck.
“My God, is that Missy Sparks? She hasn’t aged a day since graduation.” I couldn’t believe my eyes. Most of the people in the room had aged. Many had gained weight, some had lost it. Some were prematurely gray or bald. Most of the beautiful people were still beautiful thanks to 24 Hour Fitness and good DNA. But Missy looked exactly the same.
“She’s still rocking that spiral perm after twenty-five years too.”
“I just want to welcome everyone to the twenty-fifth reunion of the Class of 1989!” There was a round of applause, then Missy went on. “I know for me high school was the best time with the best friends of my life. Football games, pep rallies, hanging out with friends at Piro’s Pizza. We were a close family at Caper High.”
“What high school did she go to?” Kim whispered under her breath just loud enough for us to hear.
“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Connie joined in. “All I did after school was homework and chores.”
Missy was out of touch with reality if she thought everyone had four years of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.
“We have some totally awesome events planned for tonight, including a special number from the cheerleaders. And later this evening we have a special tribute to someone who made our four years here totally rad. But first I thought we would all love reliving one of the highlights from our days here at Caper High. Our senior prom.”
You could hear a collective groan throughout the crowd. Apparently, we weren’t the only ones who remembered high school a bit differently than the jocks and cheerleaders.
“So,” Missy gushed, “without further ado I want to bring up the Caper High Royal Court of 1989.”
“Oh, brother. She’s really carrying this prom theme all the way,” Sawyer said.
“First, the Royal Court. Kelly Scarlito and Troy Bass.”
They made their way out of the crowd to applause and took the stage. “Kristen Campbell Miller and Jerry Neal.”
Kristen Campbell was poured into a stretchy aqua cocktail dress sporting about a ten-month baby bulge as she took the stage with her counterpart. I couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to carry a baby so late in life. As badly as I wanted children I couldn’t imagine doing it in my forties.
“She looks like she belongs on the cover of Maternity Vogue,” Connie said. “That is not what I looked like when I was pregnant. I think I wore a tablecloth for my third trimester.”
“This is 2014,” Kim laughed, “Baby bumps are a fashion statement now.”
“She’s the school nurse now,” Sawyer whispered. “I wonder if she loses any credibility giving the safe sex talk.”
“Amber Fenton and Pete Ferguson.” Some of the guys in the crowd started making juvenile calls from their football days. “Fergie! Fergie! Don’t drop that ball, butterfingers!”
“Then there’s me, Miss Congeniality, Missy Sparks Edwards.”
“Omigod,” Kim said in her Valley girl voice.
Missy did something akin to a curtsy. “And Mr. Nice Guy, Paul Osborne.”
Paul flounced up on the stage dressed in a very snug Marc Jacobs floral print suit and gave a big smile and waved to everyone.
“This explains his love of show tunes and Marilyn Monroe in high school,” Sawyer giggled.
“Finally, your king and queen, Barbie Pomeroy and Billy Sommers.”
The lights flickered for a moment and in the distance there was a crack of thunder. A beautiful blonde took the stage. Barbie was wearing a strapless silver sequined cocktail dress with a slit up to the top of her thigh. From her ears dangled teardrop diamonds that could have come off a dining room chandelier. She wore bright red lipstick and a look of derision that could derail a train.
“Speech! Speech!”
I looked around the room to see where the call was coming from. “Who in the wor
ld? Oh. It’s Joanne.”
Sawyer glanced over and rolled her eyes. “That figures.”
Joanne caught my eye and made an obscene gesture unfit for a trucker.
Barbie gulped down the remains of what appeared to be a margarita, judging from the salt rim, snatched the microphone—much to Missy’s surprise—and took over the proceedings. “Heyy, what’s up, Caper High? Can you believe it’s been twenty-five years? Some of us have improved with age.” Barbie struck a seductive pose meant to optimize her new and improved cleavage. “I’m sure the rest of you did the best you could with what you had to work with. Good for you.” She wrinkled up her nose and gave a patronizing smile directed at Kelly Scarlito.
If looks could kill, Kelly had just stabbed Barbie about twenty-six times.
“What’s the matter, Billy? Don’t want to join me onstage for old times’ sake?” Barbie gave Billy a pouty look and tried to get the crowd involved in pressuring him onstage.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Kim said it but we were all thinking it.
Billy and Barbie was the closest thing we had to a power couple in high school. He was the all-American quarterback; she was head cheerleader. They were the quintessential high school sweethearts. They always wore matching outfits whether Billy wanted to or not. Voted most likely to settle down and have two point five kids and a fabulous life in suburbia. We all wanted to be them or at least be close enough to them that some of their popularity might rub off on us. When we graduated and moved on with our lives, they didn’t move on together. Billy was attending the reunion with a gorgeous brunette on his arm and the sparkly engagement ring said she was there to stay.
“You enjoy the spotlight, Barb. I’ll stay here with my fiancée.” Billy gave a halfhearted smile up to Barbie and pulled the brunette a little closer. His good looks had only improved with age, and he was especially handsome in his slick Hugo Boss suit.
“Come on, Billy. Don’t be a spoilsport. You know I only bite if you like it. But then we both know that you really, really like it, don’t we?” Barbie gave a flirtatious wink and some of the former jocks broke into howls of half-loaded delight.
Missy made a lunge for the microphone but missed.
Kim and Connie were transfixed by the stage while eating trail mix out of Connie’s purse. Sawyer had her iPhone out filming the catfight. “This is better than an episode of Scandal.”
Billy wrapped a protective arm around his fiancée’s shoulders when a pink flush rose up to her face.
“I see you’ve been hitting the open bar. What a surprise. Now I’m going show the love of my life our old make-out spot. You know the one. I caught you there with Randy Archer after homecoming.”
Barbie’s eyes narrowed in a menacing get-even kind of way that we’d all seen before. We’d seen it right before Ken Turnblad came down with food poisoning the day after he didn’t pick Barbie first for volleyball. Then again right before Terri Kerns had that fluke accident during a basket toss and broke her arm right after she was seen flirting with Billy. She had to sit out from cheerleading for the rest of football season.
“Uh-oh. Dead man walking,” Connie said between bites.
Billy turned to lead the brunette out of the gym, but Barbie refused to be ridiculed.
“Oh, go ahead, since you’re probably paying by the hour!” she said, bringing a roar from the jocks.
“Did she just imply that his fiancée is a hooker?” Connie asked incredulously.
“I believe she did,” Sawyer answered in shock for us all.
“His poor fiancée.” Sawyer angled her cell phone back to Barbie. There were a few uncomfortable murmurs in the crowd but Barbie kept right on strutting around onstage. Joanne guffawed somewhere off to our right saying, “Good one, Barb.” I overheard phrases like “low-class” and “so rude” from the crowd of former classmates, but I wasn’t sure if they meant Barbie or Billy.
Billy stopped and turned back to the stage. “I thought you’d gone to charm school, Barb. Hope they refunded your money.”
The crowd broke out into a chorus of ooooohs. Billy and his fiancée left the gym, leaving Barbie dumbstruck at center stage.
Missy made another lunge for the microphone but Barbie saw her coming and sidestepped her. Missy crashed into Kristen, who fell backward into Jerry. Jerry tried to save Kristen from falling but he didn’t know where to put his hands around her pregnant belly so he ended up grabbing her boobs to keep himself from falling off the stage.
Barbie recovered from the blow and carried on indifferent to the chaos she had created. “You will all want to be in here later for a game I like to call . . . ‘Who Got Fat?’”
Missy tried to lean into the microphone to do damage control. “No, no, we’re calling it a ‘Cheery Stroll Down Memory Lane.’ No judgment, just fun. The cheerleaders are going to put on our old uniforms and do a routine.”
“Whatever. The fact is I still fit into mine and I’m pretty sure most of you don’t. Seriously, Brenda, have you even heard about Weight Watchers? Have some self-control, for God’s sake.”
Brenda burst into tears and her husband pulled her close and glared at Barbie.
Missy grabbed the microphone. “Now, now, let’s be nice.” She covered the mic with her hand and hissed at Barbie. “You promised!”
Then back to the class, “We’re all here to have fun and congratulate each other on our achievements.”
Barbie grabbed the microphone again. “Speaking of amazing achievements, I want to introduce my gorgeous husband, the future senator for New Jersey, Congressman Robert Clark.”
“Ooh, didn’t see that coming,” Kim said, and nudged Connie before grabbing another handful of granola.
The Royal Court had had enough and was awkwardly leaving. Joel Miller gave Jerry a shove for grabbing his wife’s boobs and Jerry’s wife slapped him. Missy was trying to keep the group onstage while Barbie’s husband was waving and shaking hands with the crowd like this was a whistle-stop tour. Kelly was the only one unfazed who remained onstage clapping wildly and encouraged the rest of the crowd to join in. Robert Clark put his arm around Barbie’s waist and the couple flashed a pair of perfect smiles to the audience while someone took a couple of pictures from the crowd.
I had only seen Barbie’s husband from the back as he rushed past me before. He was a six-foot-two stunner with wavy blond hair, a square jaw, and a broad smile of even and unnaturally white teeth. “Oh my God. She married Ken.”
“A senator. Well, that just bites.” Kim expressed the disgust we were all feeling as Barbie launched into a campaign speech, talking about what a great senator her husband was going to be blah blah blah.
Missy finally wrestled the microphone back and pointed for her to leave the stage.
“Okay, that’s all I can stomach,” I told the girls. “Let’s get out of here before Missy wants to form a cheer pyramid.”
We left the gym and turned right to head down the hall to the cafeteria.
The cafeteria had been converted to a candlelit formal dining room. The long lunchroom plank tables and benches were rolled up to one side of the room and small round tables were set about covered in white tablecloths with centerpieces of hydrangeas and place settings for eight. A buffet with silver covered chafing dishes was set up on the wall where we used to go through the lunch line. Former jocks were crowding in and loading up plates to be sure to get their money’s worth.
Orchestral chamber music was coming from somewhere and I realized it was live. “They must be band students getting a little extra credit.” I did a quick look around for a Tim sighting but the coast was clear.
“Did youse guys eat yet?” Connie asked.
“No, not yet.” Sawyer looked up at me and quickly looked away.
“Well, I’m starving!” Kim marched over to the buffet table and started loading up a plate. “Do you see these shrimp? These aren’t regular shrimp. These are giant cannibal shrimp that eat other shrimp for lunch! Come on.”
We stood there and watched in amusement until she realized we weren’t loading up plates. “What are you waiting for?” she said mid-pile.
“I don’t know if I can eat a cannibal shrimp.”
Kim looked at me. “We paid good money for this boo-fay. I’ve got my purse lined in foil and I’m taking my money’s worth home.”
“Oh. My. Gosh. You do not!” Sawyer eyed Kim’s purse speculatively.
“She does, and she will,” Connie said, picking up a plate and helping herself to a canapé. “Just be glad you’ve never been tricked into crashing a wedding with her.”
“What? I said he was a distant cousin on my mother’s side. I didn’t say how distant.”
Connie looked at me and Sawyer and mouthed crazy. We all giggled and Kim opened her purse and dumped a few shrimp in.
Sawyer and I each took some fruit from the towering watermelon sculpture while Kim and Connie filled their plates with bacon-wrapped dates, crab puffs, and lamb chops. I found us a table in the corner where I could put my back to the wall and keep an eye out for Tim. My boobs hit my chin when I sat down and I had to wiggle the bustier around some. I speared a grape with my fork and it squirted onto the front of my dress. I dunked my napkin into a water glass and dabbed at it. Now instead of a small dribble I had a big glaring water spot that screamed out “dork” for all passersby. I was about to make a break for it to go hide in the car when the table next to ours filled with the enemy.
Chapter 8
“Can you believe her? What a tramp!”
Sawyer’s eyes did a full lap around when we heard Maria Ragusa, the class secretary and voice of Caper High morning announcements. Along with Paul and Kristen they were in the inner circle of the popular crowd and three of Barbie and Amber’s minions. Of all the tables in all the reunions these three had to sit at the table right next to ours.
“Girrrl, she doesn’t even know his fiancée,” Paul continued. “And right in front of her own husband, too. She hasn’t changed at all.”
Kelly and Kristen both laughed.
Connie leaned in and whispered, “Oh, if Missy could hear them now.”
