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Why?
If I’d told her, she’d have found a reason to stay. I didn’t want to hold her back. I wanted her to have experiences outside of a high school boyfriend who wasn’t going anywhere fast.
Instead, my silence meant she left for college the next day. Soon enough, I’d left town too. Now we are both back—her as the English teacher at the high school and me here in the garage. And it is like I am living the lyrics to Sam Hunt’s “Break Up in a Small Town.”
She is everywhere. At the grocery store, at Jagger’s place, at the stoplight next to me. It doesn’t matter. She is everywhere. Tempting me to talk to her. To apologize for breaking up with her when the plan had been for us to stay together. To lean down and sample those pretty pink lips to see if they still taste like strawberry-flavored Lip Smacker.
No doubt she will be at the reunion.
Maybe now is my chance.
My maybe is changing to a yes faster than I can second-guess it.
The nerves don’t hit my stomach until I hit send on my reply to the reunion email address.
“Too late now,” I mutter as I flip off the lights to the garage.
I am going to that reunion. I am going to talk to Jade.
Even if it kills me.
“Fuck, I need a beer.”
Fortunately, it’s closing time, and I have a bar stool with my name on it at Jagger’s. It’s like those reruns ofCheersthat Mom and Uncle Joe used to watch. Everyone knows my name. And while most of the locals know my reputation, there are plenty of tourists who don’t mind hooking up with a local for a weekend fling.
The parking lot is practically empty when I pull in fifteen minutes later—not surprising given it’s a weekday night at the end of summer. The summer tourist activities are shutting down, and the ski resort hasn’t opened yet. But I’m not here looking for someone to share the night with. I’m here to have a beer and see if I made the right choice by agreeing to go to a reunion I would otherwise skip.
“I figured I’d see you sooner or later,” Jagger says by way of greeting when I walk through the door.
I grunt and grab the stool designated as mine from my first day in the bar.
My best friend finishes filling the pint glass and slides it perfectly in front of me.
“What if I didn’t want this?” I ask before lifting the glass to my lips for a long pull.
Jagger lifts an eyebrow in response.
“Since when do you not want a free beer?”
“I’ll pay for it,” I grumble.
He waves away my response.
“Nah, your money’s no good here.”
“How do you expect to keep this place open if you never charge me for drinks?”
“I’m not worried about it.”
It’s his standard answer, and he never elaborates.
“Are you some secret billionaire and I just don’t know?” I ask.
A corner of his lips lifts in a smirk.
“You’ll never…”
He stops midsentence and his attention shifts to the door. Craning my neck, I nearly choke on my beer. It’s not that I didn’t expect to see Jade—I’m always partially prepared to see her—but not looking the way she does tonight.
