I heard the door slam but was in such a hurry to get to the reunion; I didn't think much of it. I ran downstairs and hailed a cab, amazingly enough, and maybe because of my outfit, the very first cab screeched to a halt right in front of me.

"Monroe High School please," I told the driver.

"You look so good, what's going on there?" the cabbie asked.

"My ten-year-reunion," I replied with a nervous smile.

"Well, you are gonna knock 'em dead," he said.

"That's so sweet. I really, really hope so. Thank you," I said, looking at the driver in the rearview mirror, noticing he was checking me out, which made me a little uncomfortable, but I shrugged it off.

The streets leading back to my old high school brought back so many memories, all of which I had to push aside. Tonight would be the night I would take back my life, and leave the nerdy girl right where she should've been left ten years ago. Rounding the long archway that led to one of the side entrances to the school, the cab pulled up to a bustling crowd of well-dressed adults, standing outside of the gymnasium, where the reunion was being held.

After handing the cabbie the money for my fare, I stepped out of the cab, one heel at a time. I waited a moment before shutting the door to the cab, wanting to make sure I could go through with the evening.

"Are you okay, miss?" he asked.

I almost jumped back into the cab, as the sight of the gym alone sucked away any confidence I might have had before I got there.

"I'm fine," I said, taking a deep breath.

As soon as I shut the door to the cab, he sped off, and all I could do was watch as my only means of a getaway faded into the bustling traffic.

There's no turning back now.

Walking through the crowd into the gym, insecurity took over, and I was beside myself with anxiety. Trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible, I quietly scanned the room, noticing the decorations were something out of an eighties disco party. Since I graduated in 2005, I couldn't decide if the reunion committee was broke and had recycled the decorations from a New Year's Eve after party, or if they were just trying to create some nostalgia—from the wrong decade.

Other than the misplaced decorations, the gym hadn't changed one bit in the last ten years. The paneled floors still creaked under foot, the bleachers still hadn't been upgraded, and the wall still donned the Red Devil logo that was painted on the year before I graduated. The dusty red and gray championship banners still hung in the same place, with only a few new ones added on to the collection.

Monroe High School had the best athletes during the four years I attended, and unofficially, still held the title for having brought home the most banners. Even the brainiac Academic Decathlon team had a championship banner taking up a coveted spot on the gym wall. Stopping at the sign in table to pick up my name tag, I lingered for a moment to peruse the remaining sticker name tags to see if Jay's name was there.

"Hmmm, his name's not here. I wonder if he's not coming, or maybe he's already here?" I murmured under my breath.

I shrugged and headed in to face the music. There were small crowds littering every inch of square footage in the gym; people chatting, laughing, and hugging. I had to admit; it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, and it was nice to see some familiar faces. Since I had transformed so much since high school, I did spend a good portion of each conversation trying to remind people who I was. Needless to say, once I brought up my hair and acne, it didn't take long before their memories kicked in.

I got a lot of, oh mys, and a whole bunch of wows. Then there were those who just stood there, gawking at me. The compliments were a double-edged sword. I knew they thought I looked great now, but it reminded me of how awful I looked back then, which still for some reason embarrassed me.

As I drifted from group to group, I kept an eagle eye out for Jay, hoping beyond hope that he would show up. The night wore on, and as I ran out of groups to drift to, I caught sight of him. There he was, just as handsome as ever, standing alone next to the punchbowl—hardly where I thought I'd find him.

Age had not diminished his looks, and the navy blue tailored suit he wore just added to his allure. I took a deep breath and sauntered over to him, hoping that I wouldn't break a heel on the way.

Thankfully, I made it over without incident. "Hi. I'm, Ella," I said, awkwardly pointing at my name tag.

Ugh, did I just point at my name tag? Lame.

"Hi. Jay Aston," he replied, holding out his hand.

"I know," I said, shaking his hand.

"Well, we obviously graduated together, but I can't place you."

"Yeah, well, I looked a whole lot different ten years ago."

"But I thought I knew all the pretty ladies our senior year."

I giggled. "I don't think you would've considered me a pretty lady our senior year."

"There is no way you could've looked anything less than stellar in high school if this is what you look like ten-years-later."

"You'll just have to look me up in the yearbook if you don't believe me."

He smiled. "I think I'll take you up on that."

"I'll have to warn you—don't look at the picture in direct sunlight." I laughed.

He chuckled. "It couldn't have been that bad."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," I said, resting my hand on the lapel of his blazer.

Am I touching his blazer?

The DJ cut in, "Alright folks, grab that special someone and drag 'em out to the dance floor."

Jay rested his hand on mine, and asked, "May I have this dance?"

I could've died at that moment. Jay Aston had just asked me to dance. I nodded.

He led me to the middle of the creaky wooden floor. "I just wanna let you know I can't dance," I said.

"It's okay. I'll lead," he whispered in my ear as he backed away and twirled me around like a ballerina, the bottom of my dress floating mid-air as I spun.

He tugged me toward him, placing his hand on the small of my back, pressing my body against his. Our eyes locked as we moved in unison in a small circle to the rhythm of the music.

"You are so beautiful," he said resting his cheek against mine.

"Not as beautiful as you," I replied.

He chuckled.

"I mean handsome. Not as handsome as you," I stuttered, pulling my face away so I could look into his eyes.

"I know what you meant."

Maybe subconsciously I knew Jay was never a possibility so my imagination never let me get this far into my fantasy, but I was definitely in uncharted waters at this point.

Do I kiss him? Will he kiss me?

I was so enthralled by the moment, I couldn't look away, even if I wanted to. Not that I did.

Our eyes were locked as he leaned in, and wouldn't you know it, a split-second before our lips touched, the DJ's annoying voice cut in again.

"Alright, alright, alright, folks. It's about that time. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

A smile fell over Jay's face. "Well, I guess that's that."

"I guess so," I replied, thoroughly disappointed the DJ had ruined the moment.

"Too bad I didn't run into you at the beginning of the party."

"You're tellin' me," I said rather disappointed we hadn't kissed.

There was a burst of confetti, and a loud roar of clapping coming from the crowd as they started to make their way outside of the gym, leaving the two of us alone in the middle of the dance floor. He smiled at me then took my hand to lead me outside.

"Are you ready?"

"What time is it?" I asked.

"I don't know, but I feel like we connected a little and I don't want tonight to end."

"I wish it didn't have to, either."

"Oh no, it doesn't have to. We aren't in high school anymore, remember? We can stay out as long as we want." He smiled, grabbing my hand, as he led me to his waiting stretch limousine.

"You're right!" I said, excited to spend more time with him.

As we neared the limo, the driver opened the door and pulled off his hat. "Good evening Mr. Aston. Ma'am."

"Why, thank you," I said, grinning from ear to ear, so impressed by his politeness.

"You're welcome."

"You know the only drivers I ever get are cabbie's that want to run me over."

"Well, maybe we can change that," Jay chimed in with optimism in his voice.

I couldn't believe how this evening was progressing, and all I wanted to do was prolong our little date, to keep from having to go back to my shabby little apartment, just to wake up again the next day as a lowly file clerk. Not after tonight. Not after experiencing the true romance I had dreamt of all these years. I felt like Cinderella, and I wanted her ending without all the drama in between.

"Would you like something to drink?" Jay offered, pointing at the glass refrigerator in the corner of the limo cabin, completely stocked with row after row of wine and champagne bottles.

"Yes, that would be great, thank you," I replied.

Unfortunately, I wasn't a big drinker, and I had a low tolerance for alcohol. In laymen's terms—I get tipsy pretty quickly. I decided to pace myself and only drink a little. Just enough to take the edge off.

As he poured the wine, I surveyed the inside of the limo, running my fingers over the wood grain and the brand new leather seats underneath my thighs.

What did he think was going to happen tonight?

I wondered what kind of girl he thought I was? Probably the kind of girl that almost let a man kiss her in the middle of a dance floor without having bought her dinner first.

But I'm not that kind of girl! Or, am I?

I must've been. Who was I kidding? I might not have been that kind of girl normally, but this wasn't a normal night—I was under his spell.