Page 16 of Rhett & Moses
I didn’t have answers yet, but for the first time in twenty years, I had hope. And for now, that would have to be enough.
When I reached my car, I was surprised to find a folded note tucked under the windshield wiper. I opened it to find Moses’s familiar handwriting:
Reunion trivia game tomorrow afternoon at the school gym. 3 p.m. They’ve assigned teams. Guess who my partner is?
If you still want to talk, I’ll be there.
-M
I smiled, tucking the note into my pocket. It seemed like the universe, or more likely, some meddling reunion committee member, was determined to throw us together. I wasn’t about to complain.
As I drove back toward town, I couldn’t help but wonder what the afternoon would bring. Would Moses be more open now that he’d shared his secret, or would he retreat behind his walls once more? Would we be able to move forward, or would we remain trapped in the patterns of the past?
One thing was certain: I wasn’t leaving Gomillion this time without resolving what lay between us, one way or another. I’d let him go once without a fight. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
CHAPTER 5
MOSES
My hands shookas I adjusted my shirt collar in the bathroom mirror of the Gomillion High School gymnasium. After leaving Rhett at the falls that morning, I’d spent the day in a haze of conflicting emotions. Relief at finally unburdening myself of the truth, anxiety about what it might mean for us going forward, and beneath it all, a persistent, low-grade longing that I’d tried and failed to suppress for twenty years.
I’d left that note on his car in a moment of impulsivity, regretting it almost immediately. But it was too late now. The reunion committee had indeed paired us for afternoon’s trivia game. Forced proximity, indeed.
“Get it together, Moses,” I muttered to myself. “It’s just trivia. You’re not eighteen anymore.”
But that was the problem, wasn’t it? At eighteen, everything had seemed both simpler and impossibly complex. Now, at thirty-eight, I understood the nuances better, the real-world consequences, but that didn’t make navigating my feelings for Rhett any easier.
The bathroom door swung open, and speak of the devil, Rhett walked in, looking unfairly good in a midnight blue suit that brought out the color of his eyes. He stopped short whenhe saw me, a flash of something; surprise, pleasure, uncertainty, crossing his face before he composed himself.
“Moses,” he greeted me, moving to the sink beside mine. “I got your note.”
“Yeah, well.” I shrugged, aiming for casual and probably missing by a mile. “Figured you should know what you’re in for afternoon. The reunion committee has a warped sense of humor.”
Rhett’s lips quirked upward. “Or an excellent matchmaking instinct.”
Heat crept up my neck. “Don’t start.”
“Too late,” he replied, his voice low and serious, eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “We started this twenty years ago, Moses. The question is whether we’re finally going to finish it.”
The intensity of his gaze made my heart race. Before I could formulate a response, the bathroom door burst open again, and a group of former football players stumbled in, already well into their pints and singing an off-key rendition of some 80s hair band anthem.
Rhett and I exchanged a look of mutual exasperation before silently agreeing to make our exit. The gymnasium had been transformed for the afternoon’s theme, with streamers in neon colors, a disco ball casting spinning reflections across the walls, and tables set up around a central stage where Principal Bushman was testing the microphone.
“Looks like they spared no expense on the time machine,” Rhett commented dryly as we surveyed the scene. “I half expect to see Molly Ringwald come through the door.”
I snorted. “More likely to see Coach doing the moonwalk. I heard he’s been practicing for weeks.”
That earned me a genuine laugh, the sound warming something inside me that had been cold for far too long. Westood there, shoulders nearly touching, sharing a moment of easy camaraderie that felt both familiar and new.
“Moses! Rhett!” Vanessa’s voice cut through the growing crowd as she made her way toward us, resplendent in a teal sequined dress that would have been the height of fashion in 1986. “You’re both here! Perfect timing. We’re about to start the trivia rounds.”
She linked her arms through ours, steering us toward a table near the front where several other classmates were already seated. The buzz of conversations surrounded us, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter and the steady thump of 80s classics from the DJ booth.
“The theme for afternoon’s trivia is Gomillion Legends and Lore,” Vanessa explained as we took our seats. “All questions about local history, town monuments, school traditions, you know, the real nostalgic stuff.”
My stomach dropped. Town monuments. Like, say, a certain Paul Bunyan statue that I’d allegedly vandalized? I shot a look at Rhett, who seemed to have come to the same conclusion, his brow furrowed with concern.
“Sounds... fascinating,” I managed, reaching for the glass of punch in front of me and wishing it was something stronger.
