“Who is it?”
“Do you remember Duncan Sullivan?”
Aurora’s stomach somersaulted. “Of course I remember Duncan! He lives in California, now?”
“Yep, he moved to Silicon Valley and started his own company a few years after college. We’ve kept in touch.”
“Good for him!”
“Seriously, though, are you okay?” Jen swallowed, glancing at the coffee in her hand. “We used to be close, but now I feel like you’re a stranger.”
A familiar ache settled in her chest. They’dbeenstrangers since that fateful day in high school when Jen had sneered at theStar Warsbook Aurora offered to lend her in front of Amber, the school diva. For years, they had been the nerdy choir girls. Together. Then, Jen decided she was too good to be seen with the rest of the nerds and left Aurora for the inner circle of divas.
Aurora thought that when she made it into chamber choir senior year, she’d finally be included in the inner circle. And to many people, it might have looked that way. In truth, it seemed she was only invited to places when it was unavoidable. She didn’t see them outside musical rehearsal or choir trips. Dave, once a good friend in choir, had stopped spending his lunches with her in the piano room after ninth grade. Aurora had one foot in the door and one foot out. Those kids had intimidated her with their private voice lessons and theater knowledge. While to outsiders she looked like one of them, in her heart, she could never compete.
“We just grew apart, that’s all. No hard feelings.” Aurora masked her true emotions well. She was used to doing so. Jen was Katie’s beloved mentor, and she couldn’t know the truth.
Jen got up from the booth to hug Aurora again. “Thanks so much for doing this, Roar! I can’t wait to surprise everyone when you come to the meeting!”
Aurora raised an eyebrow. “Do I know them?”
“Yep! We’re all chamber choir alumni. This is going to be so fun!”
“Oh, and Jen? I go by ‘Aurora’ now. It’s more professional.” Aurora managed to keep her voice level, despite her anxiety. She knew if she didn’t address it now, the old nickname would never end.
“Oh! I’m sorry! Aurora. No problem.” Jen took the instruction in stride. “Text me your Skype name, and I’ll give it to Duncan and let you know when to be online. Ooh, screenshot his face for me when he sees it’s you. I’ll surprise him, too.” Jen practically skipped out of the cafe.
Why was Aurora’s appearance such a big deal? She tried her hot chocolate again but decided to drink it when she got home.
Duncan Sullivan. For a moment, her heart fluttered like it had all those years ago when they first met. Aurora headed home to finish her grant proposal. This reunion was going to be interesting.
Memory
The first day of middle school had been an exciting prospect, but a terrifying reality. Kids from five different elementary schools all funneled into the same middle school. Her first day, Aurora was in a sea of unfamiliar faces. She had homeroom with the science teacher, Mrs. Bell, and the science classroom was unlike any she’d seen. Tables with shiny black tops and wooden stools replaced desks and chairs. Posters with foreign concepts, like photosynthesis, decorated the walls.
Mrs. Bell had the students stand around the room as she called out names and assigned seats. Across the room stood a new face that had immediately drawn Aurora’s eyes. He had light blond hair and warm blue eyes, laughing at something the kid next to him had said. Her young heart fluttered when she saw his smile that looked like it belonged in a toothpaste ad. When Mrs. Bell called out his name, she committed it to memory: Duncan Sullivan. Then, Mrs. Bell pointed to the seat next to Duncan and called “Aurora Wilson!” Her stomach flipped. She got to sit next to the cute one?
Shy Aurora took her seat, pulling her stool up to the table until the plastic scoliosis brace she wore under her shirt knocked against it.
Duncan snorted. “What was that?”
She gave him a wary, sideways glare. “It’s a brace.”
He kept laughing as her cheeks grew hot. Aurora would soon realize he was more interested in tormenting her than being friends.
That Sunday night, Aurora sat at her computer in her office. Katie’s video game echoed down the hall. “Katie, keep it down, please. I have a video call at eight.”
“Okay!”
The game went silent, which meant Katie had put on her headphones. Aurora’s Skype rang—Duncan, or rather, dsullivan18, was calling. She took a deep breath and clicked the button to accept the call.
“Hello, Duncan. Long time no see.”
“Huh? Hang on a second. Your camera isn’t up yet.”
She saw his video feed come on. The handsome boy had grown into an even more handsome man. His blond hair that used to be cropped short like the boy bands of the nineties was down to his collar and a few shades darker now, although it could be from gel. He also had a touch of gray above each temple. It made him look distinguished. He wore a light blue collared dress shirt that matched his eyes. The same eyes now frowning at the screen over his angled cheekbones while he dealt with the technical issues. From the way he leaned into the screen, it was obvious he’d been going to the gym. She was suddenly self-conscious about her double chin, and the hundred pounds she’d put on since high school. Pushing her nerves and butterflies down, Aurora held her fingers over the keyboard to take the screenshot Jen had requested.
“Here it comes.”
