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MADversary

Page 2

by Jamison, Jade C.


  Lisa wasn’t stupid. She pounced on it like a cat. “And what?”

  “Oh, nothing.” Suddenly, Megan was interested in her salad again and piled a forkful in her mouth.

  Lisa’s eyes narrowed down to slivers and she dropped her voice. Megan became aware of the cool April breeze on her arms, and she wanted to pull her sweater back on. She felt like a bug under a microscope, and Lisa wasn’t going to let her squirm free. “I don’t think so.”

  She let all the air out of her lungs in a long exhale. Better to just get it over with now. She forced her eyes up to look in Lisa’s. “What if…Tyler’s there?”

  Lisa’s chin dropped as did her hands and the flimsy plastic fork from her fingers. “Oh, my God. I should have known.”

  Megan shook her head. “Oh, no. Don’t make a federal case out of this.”

  “But it makes so much sense.”

  “No, it doesn’t. I have no idea why I would be so worried about seeing him again.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  Okay. Yes, she did. Tyler Green had been her boyfriend her senior year in high school for all of three months, the last three months of school. When school let out, he and his heavy metal band had wandered off first to Denver and then to L.A. to make it big while Megan had been responsible and gone to college in nearby Pueblo, Colorado. He and his friends had left just days after graduation and, throughout the summer, he and Megan had maintained a long-distance relationship over the phone, but by the time she was knee-deep in school, both of them admitted it wasn’t working. Their phone calls had become sporadic anyway and they weren’t even exchanging emails anymore by that time. But Megan knew the truth. She knew he must have been enjoying the rock star life. She knew women were probably falling all over him and offering themselves up to him for whatever pleasure he could ever ask for. How could she compare? And, besides that, she was lonely. She missed having him around, and a long-distance boyfriend was like no boyfriend at all. She still didn’t date until her second year in college, just couldn’t bring herself to do it. “I guess maybe I do. I…think it would be awkward, don’t you? I mean, I’ve seen his picture and stuff, but in person…might be pretty weird.”

  “You didn’t end it on bad terms. What’s the big deal?”

  The big deal was Megan had thought Tyler was the guy. He had really rocked her world the short time they’d been together. He was sweet and sensitive but cute. And even though she’d tried to avoid following his career, it had been unavoidable. At least, that’s what she told herself. But Megan knew that if Tyler had asked her to come with him that summer, she would have. She would’ve abandoned the notion of school along with the scholarship and work study job, would’ve easily said goodbye to friends and family to follow him. She was pretty sure he’d known that too but he hadn’t asked. That was all she’d needed to know. So, no, she didn’t want to chance running into him. There were too many what ifs she didn’t even want to consider. “It’s no big deal. I just don’t want to see him.”

  Lisa slapped her hands on the picnic table. “That’s just messed up. You really cared about Tyler, and I can’t believe you want to miss the chance to reconnect with him. And, besides…I really doubt he’d show up anyway. I know I wouldn’t want to attend a high school reunion if I was famous. What a cluster.”

  “So why do you even care?”

  “Because, Meg…I want some support there. What if everyone’s a bunch of jerks or they are all rich and just want to rub everyone’s noses in it? What if no one remembers me? I need a friend there, Meg. Come on. Please?”

  There were those damned blue puppy dog eyes Lisa managed to play up when she wanted people to feel sympathy for her, and even though Megan had long been aware of their powers, she still fell victim to them. Lisa was probably right. Of course, Tyler wouldn’t be there. His first band might not have made it and he’d faltered in the beginning, but the last five years, he’d been a solid rock god. Why would someone with that level of fame attend a high school reunion? There would be no good reason. “All right. Fine. But…” Megan needed to cover her bases. She couldn’t take a chance. “…if, for some strange reason, Tyler does show, then all bets are off.”

  Lisa took a deep breath and scrutinized her friend. Slowly, she offered her hand across the table for a handshake. “It’s a deal.”

  And that’s how Megan Walker got suckered into attending her ten-year high school reunion.

  Chapter Three

  MEGAN HAD DISCOVERED throughout the years that, while first impressions were often accurate, some of them were dead wrong. Take the case of Dylan Costa. Oh, yes, he was still striking—short blond hair, simmering brown eyes, cheekbones that made him look somehow exotic, and a muscular body. But, sitting across the table from her tonight, he didn’t seem friendly and approachable like he had at the concert. Tonight he seemed egotistical and full of himself. He didn’t seem interested in hearing what Megan had to say, which was fine by her, but it wasn’t the point.

  Maybe it was, though. Ever since her lunch conversation with Lisa, Megan’s mind had drifted back to high school…and to Tyler. She knew after a day or so that her mind would be back on track, but the memories were probably putting a lens over her eyes, coloring her opinions about her date. Maybe Dylan had been like this at the concert and she just hadn’t picked up on it, but after thinking about Tyler, Dylan wouldn’t stand a chance with her.

  And Megan felt some anger at herself. She’d put this behind her a long time ago, hadn’t she? So big deal. Tyler had been the ideal boyfriend, but they’d been together for a few short months…in high school, for God’s sake. Even if she added in the time they considered themselves a pair although they were separated by distance, it still added up to way less than a year. They’d only actually been together in person for three months. It didn’t mean anything, especially in high school when relationships seemed to move a lot more slowly because they were tempered with parental control. It didn’t matter that he’d been the first guy she’d ever had sex with. That just didn’t matter. It made him special, perhaps, but it didn’t make him the center of her universe.

  So why the hell was she even thinking about him again? She tried to clear her thoughts so she could concentrate on Dylan’s drone. “He didn’t even want to negotiate points. Can you believe that?”

  Megan maintained eye contact, but she was trying to remember what he was talking about. She forced a smile and shook her head, then dug in her brain, prodding for information. It was coming back to her…Dylan was a realtor, thought he was a hotshot. Oh, yeah, he was talking about the house he’d sold to the mayor last year. “That had to be the biggest commission I’ve earned so far.” He stabbed his steak with his fork and used his other hand to slice himself a bite. “What did you say you do again?”

  “I’m an Assistant Librarian.”

  “Oh, yeah…at the Public Library, right?”

  She nodded. “Yep. I like books.” She felt silly now. What else could she say really, and after his long monologue about one of his great sales, she didn’t know what she had to say that could be considered interesting. She loved working at the library, enjoyed keeping her finger on new books, helping patrons find things to read, and even hosting the weekly book club on Thursday evenings (something she did without pay), but she doubted anything she did would sound exciting to her date. Not that she felt the need to impress him, but she didn’t want to talk about herself. She would rather talk about things they enjoyed, things they had in common—like they had the other night when he’d asked her out to begin with. But maybe she could take the plunge anyway. “There’s not much to it really. I only have a bachelor’s degree, so I’ll never be the librarian unless I go back to school, but I don’t care about that. I’ve always had a deep love of books, and I’m surrounded by them there.”

  Dylan nodded. “What made you decide to go into the field?”

  Well, maybe he wasn’t such a boor after all, Megan thought. This was the first time he’d actually acted
interested in what she had to say. She warmed a little. “Well, I got a degree in English Literature…again, because I love to read, but it turned out to be a stupid idea because I didn’t really think about what I could do with that degree. I could have become an English teacher, but no thanks. So I came back home from college, degree in hand and no job. And one day I was at the library to check out some books, and I felt like I was Isaac Newton and the apple had just fallen on my head. ‘I should work here,’ I thought, and the rest is history.”

  After her little speech, Dylan seemed more interested in his baked potato. So she took another sip of the red wine in her glass and pondered if she should ask a question or keep talking. She didn’t want to bore the shit out of him like he had her. Question it was. “Do you have any favorite books?”

  Dylan stuck out his chin and shook his head. “No. I’m not a big fan of reading.”

  Wham! Any chance there had been for a relationship with this man ended right there. If he didn’t like to read, the two of them didn’t have enough in common to bother with. Books were her life, for heaven’s sake, and if he hated reading, they didn’t have enough in common to make it worth her while. And then she remembered what Lisa had told her one time. Her friend had said, “You’re too picky, Megan. You’ll never find a guy who meets your high standards.” When she felt lonely, she thought Lisa was maybe right, but when she had a guy like Dylan in front of her, she realized she’d rather be alone than with someone who didn’t value the same things she did.

  And so much for talking anymore about her job. So they fumbled through the rest of dinner, and Megan wandered back to a safe subject: talking about bands they liked. After all, they’d struck up a conversation at a concert, so at least they had one thing in common. Or so Megan had thought. She loved heavy metal music, had since the first time she’d heard Korn’s song “Blind.” Her parents had always had their radios tuned to pop stations, and she’d been fed a steady diet of Madonna, Mariah Carey, Michael Bolton, and Paula Abdul as a kid, but she’d never forget when she discovered music she loved. She thought she liked the pablum her parents listened to on the radio, but nothing compared to heavy guitars, a soul-moving bass drum beat, and screaming vocals. Her grandparents had given her a silver boom box for her birthday one year. She didn’t have any CDs, so her parents told her she could borrow theirs. But she spent her first week turning the dial, listening to radio stations, and she paused when she heard silence, followed by a distinctive, repetitive guitar riff, then another. She took her fingers off the dial and lay down on the twin bed in her bedroom and fell in love, listening to what would become one of her favorite songs ever. Over the next two years, she discovered more musicians that she loved, bands like Godsmack, Soundgarden, Rage Against the Machine, and Limp Bizkit, and her babysitting jobs paid for her growing collection of music. Her love of music was the only thing that could rival her love of books.

  So, Megan thought, at least she and Dylan could talk about the music they loved. But as she went down that primrose path, she discovered that Dylan wasn’t a huge metal fan. He liked some hard rock, but he’d gone to The Black Sheep that night with a friend who had an extra ticket. He wasn’t an avid lover like she was.

  Talk about awkward. So when he started talking about himself again, she gladly let him and also tuned him out. At least he was good looking so she could continue eye contact even if she wasn’t paying any attention to his words.

  After dinner, he asked if he could walk her up to her apartment, and she agreed it was fine. She even let him stay a while and even had sex with him. Why, she didn’t know, and when he left, she prayed he didn’t call her again. There wasn’t any connection, no spark, and the sex hadn’t been magical, so she was sure he wouldn’t. But there was always that possibility.

  Once he was out the door, Megan grabbed a favorite book off the shelves in her room and curled up in bed, trying to push the failure of the evening out of her mind. No, that wasn’t true. The evening’s events weren’t flooding her mind; instead, they led her to think about the one thing that had been on her mind since lunch: Tyler Green. And that’s why she had a hard time getting to sleep.

  Chapter Four

  MEGAN TUGGED THE long-sleeved black silk shirt off and pulled a short-sleeved pink t-shirt with a sequined heart design on the front over her head. She sighed, staring at herself in her full-length mirror. Why the hell had she allowed Lisa to talk her into going to their high school reunion?

  The time since she’d agreed to go had flown by. She kept pretending she’d forgotten, but Lisa wouldn’t let her. When it was time to mail her money to Penny Austin, the lead coordinator of the Reunion Committee, Lisa was hovering over Megan at her kitchen table, waiting patiently for her friend to write out her check.

  Then, three weeks ago, Lisa had made Megan go shopping with her to pick out clothes. Megan had purchased a few things, but not with the reunion in mind. She hated the idea of spending money on clothes meant to be worn one time. So she’d plunked down money on items of clothes she’d wear time and time again.

  Now, though, rifling through her closet, she wished she’d been less practical. And not only did she have to dress for tonight, she also had a brunch tomorrow, followed by a hike on a popular moderate trail just a few miles outside of Winchester, and a formal dinner. Sunday was an early breakfast and time to say goodbye.

  Megan was starting to panic. The pink shirt looked too casual. She took a deep breath and stood back from her closet doors, trying to reassess. She didn’t want to wear a dress, because she’d have to wear one Saturday night. Her eyes scanned her slacks and landed on a pair of simple black ones. They were on the long side and flared a little at the bottom, making them look dressy and classic without seeming too casual or business-like. She could wear a pair of black heels with them to add a little more class.

  Still, though, that left her topless. She continued scrutinizing the clothes in her closet. It was early July and hot, and even though the reunion was going to be inside the Sedgwick Hotel where there would be plenty of air conditioning, she wanted to keep her cool getting there. But then, she wondered, what if the hotel was one of those places where they kept it too cool and she’d be freezing because her arms were bare?

  She gritted her teeth, angry because she’d let Lisa’s chatter get under her skin. She was now making a big fucking deal out of this reunion when she hadn’t even planned to go. She shook her head and covered her eyes with one hand, then stuck the other hand out. Whatever she pulled out of the blouse section would be what she’d wear…within reason.

  When her hand grabbed something, she dropped her right hand from covering her eyes. This was a long-sleeved shirt as well, but it was made of a light, satiny fabric and it was a pattern of flowers, but they were in muted reds, greens, and oranges. It was simple and pretty but not over the top. She nodded, happy, and wondered why she didn’t always dress this way.

  She spent the next hour fretting over her hair and makeup. She really didn’t remember the last time she’d spent so much time primping, and she hadn’t even spent that kind of time preparing for her last five dates…combined.

  Lisa picked her up five minutes before the arrival time. When Megan answered her door and walked out, she said to Lisa, “We’re going to be late.”

  “Yeah, so? Who expects us to be on time anyway? Boring.”

  Megan laughed at the singsong didn’t-give-a-shit tone in Lisa’s voice. Lisa had been stressing over this damned reunion for months and now she was happy and relaxed, seeming to be without a care in the world. In fact, she almost acted like she didn’t even care about it anymore. Megan hadn’t wanted to go, had protested in fact, so it should be no big deal. Yet here she was, nervous and worried about what was going to happen that evening.

  As they walked to Lisa’s car, Megan shook her hands out, trying to get the circulation to speed up to normal. “Oh, my God,” Lisa said. “Are you freaking out now?”

  Megan lied. “No. I’m cool.” She kn
ew her friend knew better, but she didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to dissect her reasons anymore.

  So when they got in the car, Megan turned the radio up loud and sang along to Disturbed’s “Hell.” It was short lived, though, because the station played a series of commercials after. Megan didn’t care, though, as long as Lisa didn’t force her to talk about what was going to happen next.

  When they got close to the hotel, Megan pulled down the visor and lifted the lid to the mirror. She made sure her lipstick and hair looked okay. She knew people like her friend would evaluate how the years had treated her. Would they look at Megan and think she looked awful? Would they think she looked older or younger than she should? Too fat or too thin? What would they think?

  Did she care? When she thought about it, not really. This was going to be less than forty-eight hours of torture. She could do it. And who knows? she thought. Maybe she’d reconnect with some old friends and be glad she’d come. She might find it interesting to discover what her old classmates had done with themselves.

  Lisa parked her car and the two women exited and began walking across the parking lot together. “Oh, my God,” Lisa said as they got closer to the entrance.

  “What?” Megan asked, looking over at her friend.

  “I forgot to tell you.”

  “What?” Megan repeated, this time sounding more frustrated.

  “Yeah…um…Penny called me yesterday with an update.”

  “So?” She probably had given Lisa an updated body count. Last time fifty-five percent of their classmates were going to be there. Megan doubted the count had grown much more, and she figured that was an impressive percentage.

  “Well…” Lisa said, dragging it out.

  The women approached the revolving glass door, and Lisa darted in, leaving Megan outside by herself. She waited for the next opening and followed her friend inside. By the time she caught up to Lisa, she was feeling frustrated. Lisa liked to have Megan hanging on her every word, and she had once again succeeded. Megan stood still, just staring at Lisa. “I’m waiting.”

 

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