I can’t believe I let Jackie talk me into this.

I stand in front of my bathroom mirror, staring at myself and seeing nothing but flaws. I’m sure everyone does this but I haven’t done it in a long time. I thought I was over my wide hips and my double chin and thick ankles but I find myself focusing on them for much longer than I usually do.

Just like I did in high school.

I slip on a pair of black slacks, being careful not to wrinkle them too much. I ironed them earlier, along with the white blouse dangling from a hanger hooked on my door knob. Simple and comfortable. That’s what I need if I’m ever going to survive a night at Belle Academy again.

As I’m buttoning up my blouse, my doorbell rings. Must be Jackie. She’s early but she usually is. One of her best — and only — professional qualities.

“Hang on!” I shout from my bathroom, fiddling with twitching fingers to get the last button done before walking on bare feet through my loft.

If anyone else was behind this door, I’d take a second to tidy up the place but I’ve seen Jackie’s studio with my own two eyes. Her clutter is far more impressive than mine.

I slide the chain free and open the door. Jackie peers at me over the top of pure black sunglasses, matching the tight, black pencil skirt and suit jacket hugging her entire body. Her hot pink smile diminishes as her head tilts downward all the way to my toes.

“Yeah,” she murmurs, “that’s what I thought.” She raises her right arm, along with a beige garment bag draped over her shoulder. “Change.”

I roll my eyes as I take the bag from her. “I’m not changing.”

“Yes, you are. This is a high school reunion, not a church picnic. Either you slut it up a little or I’ll tell everyone that you pooped your pants in home room.”

I step back to let her inside. “Okay, first of all,” I say, closing the door, “we didn’t have home room, and second, I’ve haven’t pooped my pants since I was five.”

“It’s your word against mine, Poopoo Pinkeye.”

“It’s Peepee,” I correct her.

She frowns. “Well, that’s just sad.”

I pull the zipper on the garment bag and gasp. “Absolutely not.”

“Go put it on.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Jackie…” I scoff. “There’s no way this thing actually fits me.”

“It does. I know your measurements. It’ll fit like a glove.” She points toward my bathroom. “Now, go put it on.”

“No.”

“Pinkeye.”

“Boner.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Go to your high school reunion looking like you just double-booked a funeral.”

I eye my outfit. “Is it that bad?”

“It ain’t good.”

I hesitate.

“Come on, Phoebe. When have I ever steered you wrong?” I raise a brow. “Don’t answer that,” she says quickly. “But I bet that answer is very different when it comes to clothes and boys. Right?”

I exhale. “Okay, fine. I’ll try it on.”

She claps twice and turns to the closet. “I’ll be here. Let me know when you need to talk shoes.”

I walk back to my bathroom, slowly freeing the dress from the garment bag. My heart pounds with nervous dread. The last thing I want to do is draw attention to myself at this reunion but if that’s really the case — then why bother going in the first place?

I’m over-thinking this. I should just go and try and have a little fun.

I flick the buttons free on my blouse and slip out of my skirt, leaving my flesh-colored bra and matching panties on as I stare at the dress.

Scarlet red. Ends right at the knees. A cocktail dress stolen out of Jessica Rabbit’s closet. Well, my fantasies of fading off into the background are officially off-the-table if I walk in there wearing this…

“Stop staring at it and put it on already!” Jackie shouts.

I smile and take a deep breath.

“Here we go…” I say to myself.

* * *

Belle Academy is nestled in the east corner of Beverly Hills, a neighborhood I can’t say I’ve spent much time in since graduation. Yet, somehow, I’m able to give Jackie perfect directions on how to get there from memory.

I sit in the passenger’s seat, twiddling my thumbs and gripping the bottom edge of my dress to pull it down to my knees.

Jackie slaps my hand. “Stop that. You’ll stretch out the hem.”

I lay my palms flat on my exposed thighs. “It should be just around this corner. Prepare to stop for security.”

“Ooh, security,” she coos. “I love a man in a uniform.”

I smile, amused, but still a little shocked. We’re officially late, as it took several minutes for me to even step outside of my apartment in this dress. If enough people are here already, then maybe I can slip in unnoticed.

Jackie takes a hard left turn, bringing Belle Academy into full view ahead of us. She whistles and eases on the brake to slow down as we near the giant, silver gates keeping us outside.

“Fancy,” she says.

I nod, my eyes gliding up and down the tall, stone columns of the administration building.

We pull to a stop next to a small hut. A man in a navy-blue security outfit stands up with a clipboard in hand as Jackie rolls the window down with a bright smile on her face.

“Well, hello there,” she greets.

“You two here for the reunion?” he asks, his voice husky but warm.

I fish through my purse for the invitation I printed off and hold it out for Jackie to take but she stays focused on his rough, youthful face instead.

“Well, she is,” she says. “I’m still firmly-planted in the mid-twenties demo.”

I roll my eyes and nudge her arm to make her take the invite. She snatches it from my fingers and hands it off to the guard.

He clicks on a small flashlight attached to his belt and reads it before marking a name off his clipboard. “You two ladies have fun,” he says, taking a step back. “And behave yourselves,” he adds, his eyes falling on Jackie.

She winks. “I make no promises…”

I clear my throat, loudly, drawing an annoyed glance from Jackie.

“Have a good night,” he says, stepping back.

Jackie flashes him one more smile before rolling the car forward.

“Parking lot on the left side,” I say, pointing.

“So, that’s how tonight is gonna be, huh?” she asks. “I’m not allowed to play?”

“Play all you want,” I tell her. “Just please get me through this first.”

She nods. “Got it.”

I look back over my shoulder. “He was cute, though. They didn’t have guards like that when I went here.”

“That man was pure, unfiltered catnip.” She exhales. “But you’re right. Tonight is your thing.” She pats her lap twice. “Down, kitty.”

We park in the lot next to the front office and my nerves twitch as I see the line of cars already here. Each one of them is bright, shiny, and new. Sports cars and luxury sedans. Jackie’s beat up Chevy stands out and not in a good way.

At least we look great. I think.

We head toward the entrance and I keep my head down as I see a man in a black suit standing outside with his phone in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other. I recognize his face. Blaine McNally. He used to sell joints in the bushes behind the administration building and, judging from the dark circles plastered beneath his eyes, he probably moved up to something much, much harder.

Blaine barks words quickly into the phone, clearly in the middle of an argument, but his words slow down the second he notices us passing by.

I hold my breath, taking longer strides toward the door. I grab it and hold it open for Jackie, making note of her perfect posture and gait as she strolls inside. I follow, mocking the movements with my chest stuck out and my non-existent ab muscles held tight.

Jackie smiles back at me as we drift out of earshot. “So far, so good.”

“Uh-huh.” I reach down to tug my dress toward my knees.

She slaps my hand again. “Stop that.”

We continue toward the front desk, sitting outside of the Headmaster’s office. The name Philip Lynch is still etched into the front glass. I wonder how many of my old teachers are still around, too.

Jackie gasps at the vaulted ceilings above our heads. “Wow. This is a high school?” she asks.

“Yes, it is,” I answer. “Just makes you sick, doesn’t it?”

“I am utterly disgusted.”

We follow the music down the hall past the offices and classrooms toward the gymnasium in the back. As we draw closer, I catch sight of a woman at a table. Tall and blonde like a living Barbie doll right out of the box. For a second, I don’t recognize her but as she looks up at me, it all comes back.

Sally. Same devious eyes, different nose…

“Phoebe Pink?!” she cries.

I nod. “Hello, Sally.”

She lays her hands on her hips as her mouth sags in surprise. “I did not expect you to actually show up.”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“Well, yeah, but…” She shrugs as her eyes travel down my dress. “You look nice.”

“Thank you,” I say, choosing to interpret it as the compliment it might be rather than the swipe it probably is.

Her eyes flash on Jackie. “And who is this?”

“This is my friend, Jackie,” I say. “Jackie, this is Sally Sweet. Class President.”

Jackie’s lips slide up her cheek. “Yeah, I figured.”

Sally spins around and picks up two name badges off the table, one grabbed from a pile of blanks. She jots Jackie’s name down on the latter and twists in my direction with that same devious glance before handing over mine. I stare at the photo on the badge. That old, awful, class portrait stares back.

“I had these made up so we’d all know who each other are,” she says. “Aren’t they fun?”

“Oh, they’re super fun, Sally,” I murmur. “Thank you.”

She stands her ground, urging me with her dead eyes to put it on before letting us inside the gym.

I sigh and clip the thing onto the top of my dress.

“Perfect!” Sally grins wider with victory.

Jackie leans forward, her eyes shifting around Sally’s non-badged dress. “And where is yours?” she asks, reaching up to purposefully scratch her nose.

Sally’s smirk fades an inch and steps aside. “Have fun,” she spits, dodging the question.

I bite my inner cheek, stifling a laugh as Jackie marches forward. Sally glares at me but I don’t let it last long. I follow Jackie into the gym, finally allowing the laugh to break free from my clenched throat.

“Jackpot!” Jackie says, her eyes locked on the mini-bar across the gym. “What are the odds it’s open?”

“High,” I say. “Pretty sure they whip that thing out at PTA meetings, too.”

“Yes,” she whispers, continuing her charge forward through the crowd of tables and mingling people.

I stand still as I scan their faces. I’d hoped at least some of them let themselves go just a little bit but I guess I’m not that lucky. They’re all still so beautiful with toned bodies and perfect fashion sense. A few of these girls are dressed to the nines in evening wear tore out of the latest Gucci catalog — I’m assuming.

At least I don’t feel overdressed anymore. I fight the urge to tug at my hem again.

I wander through the small crowd, moving slowly and carefully as to not accidentally bump into anybody. There are about forty people here scattered around tables, laughing and talking. Not a single one looks up at me. I guess I still blend in.

I join Jackie by the bar, where she’s obviously already getting to know the bartender.

“Give me a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses.”

He pauses. “A whole bottle?”

“Yes.” She snaps her fingers at him. “Come on. Ain’t got all night.”

He takes a step back but doesn’t argue as he roots through the other bottles.

I shake my head. “Jackie, what are you doing?”

“Loosening you up,” she says, smiling.

“You know what happens to me on vodka.”

“Exactly.” She turns to me. “Do you really wanna walk around all night with that stick up your bum or would you rather black out and enjoy yourself?”

“I don’t black out on vodka,” I say. “You black out on vodka. I get all silly and giggly and… you know.”

She nods in remembrance. “Snort like Ms. Piggy…”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” the bartender hands Jackie a bottle and she twists the cap off, “you’ll just have to concentrate real hard on not snorting like a moron while you talk to Max later.”

“I’m not talking to Max later.” I lower my voice. “We don’t even know if he’s here.”

“Sure, we do. He’s right over there.”

She points over my shoulder and my heart skips.

I casually ease around to glance behind me.

Max Monahan.

He stands at a table on the other side of the gym, surrounded by others. Just like he always was.

Ten years hasn’t done anything to him. He’s still just as boyishly handsome, features sharp enough to cut tin cans. The jade in his eyes reflects back at me from all the way over here. A jet-black suit with a crooked blue tie. Max throws his head back and laughs with that dimpled smile but it falls away just as quickly.

My knees sway beneath me.

Jackie picks up her shot glass and motions for me to do the same. “You ready?” she asks, grinning wildly.

I fill my lungs and exhale slowly as I stare into my glass. “Here we go...”

I toss it back, swallowing it in a single gulp.