I stir my drink with the straw, swirling the grenadine around, and shake my head. “I was a kid, and he only went to my school for, like, maybe a month or two. He didn’t even know I existed.”
That’s not quite true, but it doesn’t matter because it was so long ago, and those sweet childhood memories had already been replaced by something much less pleasant.
I’m responsible for allowing that to happen, I suppose both when I was young, and again last year. It’s funny how the few times I’ve made the decision not to play it safe all seem to involve this man. Even today I could’ve told my boss I knew Lance. I could’ve intimated that I didn’t feel comfortable treating him, but I guess the truth is I wanted to. Just like the last time I ran into him, I wanted to see if he would be the same as I remembered. He was, and he wasn’t.
Today he was awkward, and intense, and maybe even a little sweet—exactly like he was the first time our worlds collided, and nothing like the way he was last year. I wonder if I’m inviting discord into my life, or if it’s just my insecurities that make me feel this way. A kiss is just a kiss. Especially one that happened more than a decade ago. Maybe it should be nothing, but there’s so much spark caught up in that one memory.
When I saw him last year, I wanted to find that feeling again. But that’s not what happened at all. I hope this time his appearance doesn’t lead to second-guessing and the consumption of a lot of comfort food like it did before.
It took me three months to lose the five pounds Ben and Jerry’s added to my waistline last time. Which is ridiculous, because it was one stupid night where nothing happened, so it shouldn’t have meant anything. But it did. Because it destroyed a perfectly preserved moment in time. A highly romanticized one, obviously, but I was twelve, so that’s totally acceptable. Not so much at twenty-three.
“Poppy? Are you okay?”
“Huh?” I look up from the drink I’m still stirring.
“You gapped right out there.”
“I’m fine. Just tired. It was a long day. How was Ms. Thong?”
“Oh God! I wish you could’ve seen her today. She was rocking the craziest hot pink butt floss. I thought it was going to snap it was so tiny!”
April doesn’t ask me any more questions. Instead we move on to other topics. When the fries come, I scarf down the entire plate. April and I live in the same neighborhood, so once she finishes her drink and I polish off my snack, we walk home together. I’m quiet, trying my best not to think about Lance and all the feelings he’s stirred up.
I don’t have a lot of girlfriends living around here. I’m kind of a homebody by nature, and my high school friends are back in Galesburg. Most of my college friends have moved to other places, and my sister never stays in one place very long. Right now she’s living in Boston, but I assume that will change in the next few months, as it often does. I love my sister, but we’re exact opposites. She lives on the edge, and I’m usually safe inside the lines.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” April asks.
I can’t decide if I want to tell her what happened last year or not. We hadn’t been close enough for me to divulge it back then. But now things are different. “Do you remember Kristi?”
“Who?”
“That girl in our program who used to party all the time?”
“You mean the one with the Kardashian butt?”
I snort. “Yeah.”
April makes a face. “Sure. You hung out with her a bit, right?”
I nod. “Last year I went out with her and another one of her friends downtown.” She’d had a lot of connections because her family had money. I’d made a decision I normally wouldn’t. Later, when I had perspective, I realized Kristi was only nice to me because I aced all the tests. The invitation was a trade of sorts; she allowed me into her circle for a night, and I’d taken on the bulk of a group project. I definitely lost out on the deal.
“I bet that was a trip.”
“She had VIP connections or whatever. Anyway, she got us into this exclusive club where all these rich people hang out. Lance was there with some of his teammates.”
“What? When did this happen? Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?”
“Because it wasn’t exactly an awesome night, and I didn’t think I’d ever run into him again, so what was the point of talking about it? Besides, it’s more embarrassing than anything.”
“Embarrassing? Why? Oh my God. Did you sleep with him? Why didn’t he recognize you? I’m so confused.”
That makes two of us. “I didn’t sleep with him, but Kristi did.”
“Ew. She’s so dirty. I hope he used a condom.”
I don’t comment, or tell her about how I told Kristi I’d been following his career since he’d been drafted and then she used that line to get his attention when he started talking to me.
“I don’t get why that’s embarrassing for you.”
I debate how much I’m willing to share. Talking about it makes it all fresh again. “He started talking to me first when we were at the bar, but after that Miller guy wasn’t interested in anyone, I guess because he had a girlfriend, Kristi decided she wanted Lance’s attention, so...”
“She jumped on him before you could.”
“Pretty much.”
I leave it at that. Not that I would’ve jumped on him anyway, or at least that’s what I tell myself now. I honestly don’t know what would’ve unfolded had I been his sole focus of interest that night.
“Did he recognize you then?”
I shake my head. “He was drunk—everyone was except for me. I was…tipsy, not drunk, though. And like I said, I was a kid when we went to school together, and it wasn’t for long, so it’s not a surprise he doesn’t remember me.”
I don’t share anything about the party my sister took me to when she was a freshman and I was still in seventh grade. Lance hadn’t recognized me then either—but what happened cemented him in my memories forever.
I also don’t tell her we exchanged phone numbers.
April and I walk together until we reach her apartment, and then I keep going to my row house a couple of blocks away. My neighbor, Mr. Goldberg, is sitting on his front porch as I climb the stairs, phone in hand texting April to let her know I’m safe.
“Out late tonight?” Mr. Goldberg asks.
“I stopped to have a bite to eat with a friend,” I reply.
“Got yourself a new boyfriend?”
I laugh. “Nope. Just April.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I’m not looking forward to the day you cancel our Wednesday tea dates.”
Mr. Goldberg lost his wife of fifty-three years almost ten months ago. When that happened, I’d started bringing over care packages once a week, which turned into Wednesday evening tea and cookies. He was a sweet man, and his loneliness made me sad sometimes. I didn’t have a boyfriend right now, but my life was still pretty full with good people and a job I loved.
“No boyfriend could get in the way of tea and cookies.”
“Ah, one day you’ll find someone better looking than me to spend time with, Miss Poppy.”
“Impossible, Mr. Goldberg.”
He smiles. “You’re good for an old ego.” He pushes out of his chair. “Well, now that you’re home safe, I can go inside and watch the news. You have a nice night, dear.”
“You too, Mr. Goldberg.”
I check my mailbox and bring in all the flyers and bills, sorting through them as I kick off my shoes. I live in the house I grew up in. When we moved out of Chicago, my parents decided to keep this place as a rental property, and when I came back years later, they gave me the keys with the understanding that I would pay the balance of the mortgage. It’s worked out well so far.
I drop most of the flyers in the recycle bin and toss the rest on the kitchen table. I’ll go through it tomorrow, when I’m not so tired and in need of my bed.
I change into my sleep shirt and brush my teeth. As I lie down, I try to think about anything but Lance. It’s impossible. He’s dominated everything every single time he’s come in to my life, even if he doesn’t know it.