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“Well, thank you. You reminded me who I am. I guess I needed that little slap upside the head.”
“Shouldn’t need remindin’.”
“Sometimes we all need a little reminding,” she countered.
He tipped his head to the side in agreement.
Shay glanced at her watch again. “Okay, I need to get going.” Too bad she couldn’t take him with her. She could listen to his “pep talks” all night.
She wondered if he even owned a suit. If he did, he probably would look damn hot in it. Add some fancy cuff links and a sharp tie in a gray to match those eyes…
But he didn’t seem the type to like to wear suits. Or even a suit jacket.
That was perfectly okay with her because the heels she was wearing were already killing her feet and she was counting down the minutes to when she could go back to her room, kick them off and go barefoot again.
She headed toward the exit.
“Have a good night, Shay. Go slay those motherfuckers.”
She paused with her hand on the door’s push bar and took a last glance over her shoulder. “Thank you.”
He jerked his chin up at her and shot her a grin. “Ain’t nothin’.”
She shoved the door open and stepped out into the humidity of the mid-August evening.
No, he was wrong.
Maybe he didn’t realize it, but, to her, it had been everything.
A cluster of butterflies were having a good ol’ time at the disco party in her stomach while Shay wandered around the high school gym, a glass of wine in one hand, her clutch in the other.
Tonight the gym wasn’t as she remembered it since it was brightly decorated for the event and didn’t look as intimidating. Throughout her years here, it, and the locker room, had always sent her spiraling into a panic.
She hated dressing and undressing for gym class and did everything she could not to use the showers. Other girls in her class would strut around in their pretty matching bras and panties, while Shay hadn’t even needed a bra.
Hers was two triangles of cloth just to cover her nipples. They certainly didn’t need to support anything. Two Band-Aids would have done just as good of a job.
As a teen she had been skinny and gawkward, her term for being both gawky and awkward. No matter how much she ate, she was much skinner than she should be for her age. Her thinness had caused her to be labeled as “willowy” from kind people and a whole host of other names from those who weren’t.
She stopped in an uncrowded corner of the large gym and lifted her fingers to her cheek. All night she kept remembering Ozzy’s warm, but firm, touch there when he locked gazes with her and told her to smile tonight.
The way he’d said it seemed to be more of an order than a suggestion, but even so, as soon as she had walked through the high school’s doors, she had pasted that smile on her face. Though, it wasn’t as genuine like the ones he caused.
When her name was checked off the attendance list and her “Hi, my name is…” name sticker was given to her to fill out, she recognized the two women manning the table.
They didn’t recognize her.
At least at first.
But when she was told to write her maiden name in parenthesis under her current name on the sticker, and she did so, both women’s eyes widened and they shot a quick glance at each other.
Then Maggie Miller exclaimed, “You look great, Shaylyn!”
She wasn’t sure if the compliment was genuine or not, not that she cared either way. The two women were among many who had made fun of her during her high school years and never once made an effort to be nice.
Not once.
Shay had lifted her chin, pulled her shoulders back and snapped her steel spine into place. “You can call me Shay. No one calls me Shaylyn.”
“I see you’re married!” Pennie Corbin piped in. She made a show of looking around and “searching” behind Shay, even though Shay was the only person standing in front of the table. Her over-plucked eyebrows dropped low. “Where’s your husband?”
Shay kept her expression deadpan as she said, “Dead.”
Both women’s mouths dropped open and their eyebrows shot up.
Channeling Ozzy’s confidence, she followed it with, “I’m much happier now.” She tapped the table in front of the two ladies. “I hope we get a chance to catch up later.”
She turned, careful not to trip on her heels, and strode through the propped open double doors into the gym. She immediately spotted the cash bar and headed in that direction.
She could use a glass of wine or two.
Now, an hour later, she was slowly sipping on her second glass of cheap Cabernet and checking out the small clusters of chattering people scattered around the decorated gym.
