Chapter 10
Ellie
October, Age 28
“Alright everyone, let’s get started, we’re already running behind!”
Our former student-body president, Tori, brings the room to attention, twenty minutes after the meeting wastechnicallysupposed to start. In literally everyone’s defense, there’s a lot to say when it’s been ten years since you’ve seen each other, and what even is there to run behind on?
Even I, dragged here against my will, metaphorically kicking and screaming, couldn’t help the joy that swelled in my chest when I saw all the familiar faces. I’ve spent so many years trying to block out Larkspur for the sake of Griffin that I guess I must have blocked out everyone else too.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she brought her gavel with her,” the guy next to me mutters out of the corner of his mouth. I recognize him, but we never had any classestogether and I’ve been frantically trying to remember his name.
Thankfully, the high school football star turned realtor was perfectly content with my, “Oh my God, hey…you!” and I didn’t have to experience the horror of telling him I forgot.
I snort, then quickly try to cover it with a cough when Tori glares at me. She was the peppiestandscariest tyrant the LHS student council has ever or will ever encounter.
“Now that we’re all focused,” she says with a pointed look, the football star’s shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter, “I think the most important items on the agenda today are theme and location. Any suggestions?”
“Where are they now?”
“Space themed? Like, Blast From The Past or something?”
“Larkspur Legends?”
After twenty-ish theme suggestions, each progressively worse than the last, we decide to table that conversation for a later date.
“Okay, I see we need to do a little thinking,” Tori says with a tone of condescension. “Our resident party planner can’t exactly plan a party without a theme,” she says, beaming in my direction.
Not a party planner, thanks though.
“How about some venue suggestions?”
“We could do the school gym,” the football player suggests.
“Ew no,” Abby interjects. “I don’t want to spend an evening in a room that smells like gym socks and stale popcorn. What about a restaurant of some sort? Maybe the hibachi place?”
“I don’t think that would work either,” Sophia, our yearbook editor, says cautiously. She’s one of the sweetest souls in the world, and I’m shocked she had it in her to be disagreeable, even on a miniscule level.
“I agree,” Tori says. “I think we want more interaction, and if everyone is sitting, you’re stuck with whoever is next to you.”
“God, imagine being stuck next to Brandon,” Tori says, shivering at just the thought of Larkspur’s very own stereotypical sketchy, weirdo kid. He was a total creep back then, but now he makes “Dazed and Confused” Matthew McConaughey look like a saint.
“What about the old barn?” Sophia asks. “It got renovated recently. My cousin had her wedding there.”
“That’s perfect actually!” Tori exclaims, lighting up with relief that we actually made a decision today. “I’ll reach out to them to book it, do you think we’re still aiming for November 23rd?”
I shoot Abby a sharp look–she conveniently left out that the reunion is scheduled for my 29th birthday.
Of course it is. If there’s one thing Larkspur High is good at, it’s finding a way to make my birthday wildly uncomfortable.
“It’s decided then,” Tori squeals, as murmured voices of agreement overlap. “Let’s call it for today. Everyone try to think of a theme suggestion before Saturday, and I think we should focus on food and drinks then, as well. Remember, we only have four weeks to pull this off, people! Let’s do it!”
Standing up and clapping her hands once, she dismisses us. With a checklist in place for our next meeting, we say our “so good to see yous” and “we should catch up soons” before heading back to the car.
“See, not so painful was it?” Abby asks, in a told-you-so tone. “Well, except for Tori, that neurotic bitch. Some things never change.”
“She’s reliving her glory days. If she really did peak in high school, we should let her have this,” I say, unable to keep the smile off my face. “But no, it wasn’t. Not so painful at all.”
