Stakes & Stilettos - Michelle Rowen [32]
“Just give her a moment,” Reggie suggested, sipping from a small glass of punch. “She’s sensing the aura of potential evil in the room.”
Claire’s eyes snapped back open and her smile returned. “Nope, everything feels fine to me.”
O-kay.
We chatted for a while longer before the crowd slowly began to swell, although still not as many as I would have expected. Maybe it had something to do with its being held in February. Due to construction on the school scheduled for the summer, the reunion had been moved up this year as opposed to canceling it altogether. That was probably why the attendance was spotty. Abottsville was well known for getting dumped on with snow at any given winter moment, and the threat of that might keep some people away.
Claire and Reggie finally moved away to schmooze with others with a promise to return later. Standing at Thierry’s side, I waited for the huge wave of nostalgia to wash over me and make this into a fantastic night that would help me to feel better about my life. An hour later I was still waiting.
George took a break from the dance floor to come over toward us. He wore a nametag that said “Jim-Bob” on it.
“Everyone remembers me,” he said. “Apparently I was popular.”
“You were.”
I remembered Jim-Bob. And he had been a popular guy. Strangely enough, George was nothing like him, since Jim-Bob was short and fat and a major womanizer—also, definitely not a vampire. I could have sworn I’d read in the paper last week that the real Jim-Bob had been indicted on four counts of Internet fraud. I guess that’s why his nametag was available tonight.
“I’m going to make a trip to the ladies’ room,” I told Thierry. “Too much fruit punch.”
He nodded and leaned over to brush his lips against mine. “I’ll be waiting.”
I could tell by how quiet he was that he wasn’t having a very good time. I decided not to torment him for much longer.
Five people recognized me on my way out of the gym, but I didn’t recognize them until I looked at their name-tags. It was amazing how much people could change in ten years.
In the ladies’ room, I picked the stall closest to the door so I wouldn’t have to walk past the mirrors on the wall. Not having a reflection sometimes brought up questions I didn’t want to answer if I could help it. Questions like, “Why don’t you have a reflection?” That was the most common one. It came just before whoever asked it freaked the hell out.
When I exited the stall I noticed a blond woman leaning against the wall opposite it. I figured she’d been waiting to use it, despite the multiple other options in the room, but she didn’t make a move to go in.
“Sarah,” she said. “Great to see you again.”
Didn’t recognize her. Damn. I glanced at her nametag and realized she wasn’t wearing one. “Hey there… you. How’s it going?”
She wore a tight-fitting blue dress that encased her Playboy Bunny–esque body. Definitely fake boobs. Her hair was so light blond it looked like Barbie doll hair. She was beautiful, but in an unnatural sort of way.
“I’m fantastic,” she said, and then paused. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
“Of course I do,” I lied, feeling bad about not remembering somebody who obviously knew me. “Silly. How could I forget you?”
She smiled. “What’s my name, then?”
I tried to laugh at that but it came out pinched. “Why, don’t you remember it?”
The smile didn’t quite reach her heavily made up eyes. “Of course I do. But, nobody else seems to. Actually, it’s okay. I looked way different back in high school. Ten years can really change a person.”
“Except for me,” I said. “Except for a couple of things in my life, I feel like I haven’t changed a bit.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“Depends what you want out of life. I kind of like having ties to who I was back in the day. Keeps me grounded.”
And happy. And vaguely normal.
She nodded. “I’m Stacy. Stacy McGraw. Remember me now?”
I nodded. But I didn’t. Not even slightly. “Of course. Nice catching up, Stacy. I’m going to head back to the dance now.”
She blinked slowly. “Don’t you want to wash your hands first?”
I