Page 17 of And Then There Was You
He had a point. She would definitely feel like less of a loser if she had Rob on her arm. People would ask, “Oh, what’s Chloe Fairway up to these days? Did she ever become an actress? Is she changing the world?” and someone else would say, “I don’t know, but she’s got a smoking-hot boyfriend who can quoteBrideshead Revisited, so she must be doing something right.”
This was either an inspired plan of incomparable genius or the worst idea she’d ever had. Either way, it was the only plan she had. She replied to the reunion email, saying she wouldattend with a plus-one, and then picked up the phone to Perfect Partners. Avery didn’t sound the least bit surprised to hear from her.
On the train home after work, packed elbow to ear with commuters, all glued to their phones, Chloe contemplated this scene. So sad, everyone focused on the little oblongs in their hands, not one person making eye contact with a stranger. Then her own phone buzzed, and she promptly forgot whatever it was she’d been thinking about.
John
HI CHLOE, I JUST GOT YOUR RSVP FOR THE REUNION. YOU NEGLECTED TO FILL IN DETAILS TO THE SPECIFIED QUESTIONS. JOHN.
She frowned. The wording felt characteristically blunt from John, but all caps seemed excessively aggressive. She scrolled up to the message above. It was from eight years ago, the last time she’d been in touch with him. She’d sent him an article about the largest orange ever grown. He’d replied with a thumbs-up.
She didn’t know why she hadn’t stayed in touch with John; she’d always been fond of him. She guessed they’d drifted after that first term in third year because he’d lived with Sean. John was viewed as mildly eccentric by most people in college, but she’d found him quietly brilliant. You never had a boring conversation with him. She remembered sitting next to him at a formal dinner once. She was peeling an orange, and he launched into the story of how a wild, bitter, thin-skinned fruit had been cultivated into the sweet, thick-skinned delicacy in her hand. He told it as though it were the best story in the world, but then John told all stories like that. Now, whenever she peeled an orange, she alwaysthought of him. She should have made more effort to reconnect. Just because Sean had cut her off, it didn’t mean John had.
Chloe
Hey, it’s been a long time. What are you up to these days? SORRY FOR NEGLECTING DETAILS!
John
SORRY, PHONE BROKEN. STUCK ON CAPS LOCK.
Chloe
Oh right, you should get that fixed. It reads kind of aggressive. Anyway, how are you?
She tried to picture what John might look like now. Did he still dress like a student from the 1940s, in tweed jacket, waistcoat, and polished shoes? Had he kept the long hair? She’d googled him once, curious, but he didn’t have much of an online presence. Apparently, he worked in music production, which wasn’t a surprise.
John
FINE. JUST NEED YOUR DIETARY REQUIREMENTS, WHETHER YOU NEED A ROOM IN HALLS, AND NAME OF YOUR PLUS-ONE.
Chloe
No dietary requirements. Yes please to a room in halls.
John
AND THE NAME OF YOUR PLUS-ONE?
She started typing Rob’s name, then hesitated. The surge of confidence that had fueled this idea was already flickering. Maybe she should see how her first date went before she committed in writing.
Chloe
Can I tbc?
John
ARE YOU WHITTLING DOWN CONTENDERS?
Three dots appeared, then vanished. She pictured John, still typing like he was sending telegrams from a bunker.
John
WELL. WHOEVER WINS, I HOPE HE APPRECIATES CITRUS HISTORY.
Chloe smiled despite herself. With some friendships, even after years of silence, you could pick straight back up where you’d left off.
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