Page 142 of Resurrection
"You okay?" she asks, giving me a quick squeeze. "You seem nervous."
"You make me feel sixteen again," I say, half teasing, half true. "And terrified. People will talk."
"I don’t care, anymore," she replies with a smile.
The first thing that catches my attention is Adri’s cruiser on the perimeter of the school parking lot.
"What’s he doing here?" I grit out, my mood dropping immediately as I maneuver my Audi toward the valet.
Naomi shrugs. "I think it’s standard security protocol for all events that run late."
"What are a bunch of thirty-five-year-olds going to do? Graffiti the gym?"
"You underestimate people in their thirties. Alcohol can make us do stupid things."
"I hope you’re not referring to our night at the resort?" I come to a stop, and the attendant is there, already opening the doors for us.
"That's precisely what I'm talking about."
"But consider the outcome," I say. "Alcohol is what brought us together."
"If that helps you sleep at night," she replies with a touch of sarcasm, then steps out of the car.
I open my mouth to respond with quip of my own, but she’s already moving toward the check-in desk. I catch up to her, and we pick up our name tags.
The woman helping us looks vaguely familiar. Her own name tag says Fiona, and I’m starting to remember now. She was always in the front row, taking notes and making doodles in the margins of her notebooks.
"Tyler Brady. In the flesh." She smiles at me, her gaze bouncing between Naomi and me. "I didn’t know you two kept in touch."
"We didn’t," Naomi replies sharply.
"Well"—Fiona smiles some more—"it’s good to see you two made up, then."
As soon as we’re out of Fiona’s earshot, Naomi whispers at me, "I think she had a crush on you in high school."
I chuckle. "Everyone had a crush on me, baby."
"Don’t you ever call me that in front of other people."
"Why not?" I grab her hand, lacing our fingers together. "If we’re doing this, we’re doing this right."
"You mean you want to act all pubescent and cheesy?"
"Just roll with it, okay?" I tease, leading her down the hallway and toward the gym.
"Weren't you the one who jumped into a pool from the second-floorbalcony?" she whispers as we walk. "Why throwing shade at people in their thirties?"
"I'm pretty sure I was twenty-nine at a time," I whisper back.
"Sure," she drawls.
Naomi’s the sparkle on everyone’s lips the moment we walk into the gym. The space itself is a jungle of nostalgia, paper-thin and already wilting. Banners and streamers hang from beams. A couple of massive disco balls. Familiar faces blur by like little time capsules with names I almost remember.
My fingers clutch hers tighter. It feels like a true homecoming, like seventeen years of misery and suppressed emotions didn’t exist, like I’m on top of the world, like I have the most beautiful woman on earth.
Immediately, old friends swarm in, surrounding us in a whirl of chatter and fond hugs, spinning her away from me. Across the floor, there’s Brittney, Naomi's bestie who’s now a vice principal at the very same school. Colin Roth, one of Lachlan’s lackeys, is here too, already thoroughly drunk. Jon waves at me from the opposite side of the gym, all suited up and jittery. His date is a bit too young. College age young. But I don’t judge. He’s single. He can do whatever he wants as long as it's consensual and legal.
When I turn around, Naomi’s nowhere to be seen, and for a second, I panic, but it doesn’t last long because I remember that all her friends are here tonight. She's probably mingling.
