Under the Lights

I could feel the warm, pink tones flooding my face as my eyes locked with his. It felt as if the world was spinning around us, him and I being the only two things stuck in place. I haven’t seen Spencer since we graduated high school. I thought I hated him; I thought I never wanted to see him again. But now that we’re here, I can’t help but notice how amazing he looks under these lights. I can’t stop the emotions I felt all those years ago from fronting once again, and they come so fast it almost knocks me right off my feet. Then he smiles at me. That same smile that I knew for so long, the one that greeted me every morning as I walked through the school hallways. The same smile that haunted me for two years after he left me. 

I tried to forget Spencer. I really did. I moved across three states, wiped all my social media, and even started going by my middle name. I did everything I could to forget the time we spent together. Eventually, I did get over it. It’s not like our relationship really ended in a bad way; we were just a couple of kids who thought we were in love. Our relationship lasted during our most developmental years of our lives, so of course I had a pretty visceral reaction to it. I don’t think Spencer ever felt the same. Admittedly, I was obsessed over his social media and all of his new girlfriends for quite a time afterwards. He seemed content, not even fazed by the fact that we had loved each other for four whole years. I gave everything to him. I was so vulnerable. I had never been in a relationship before him, or after him for that fact. 

I swore to myself that I wouldn’t make the same mistake I did with him. I was not going to miss out on these years like I did with highschool. I made friends, I went out, and I had a good time. I didn’t waste time thinking about some guy I had at home that didn’t want me to wear my little black dress or was afraid I’d find someone else. Don’t get me wrong; Spencer wasn’t like that. He was amazing, actually. But I wasn’t going to risk trapping myself in something like that. I was free, and I was happy; I still am. I haven’t had so much of a whisper of his memory come to me in years. But here we are, the two of us standing ten feet from each other, blushing like we’re 16 all over again. 

“How’s it going, Hollywood?”

 It runs out of his mouth so smoothly. Like it comes naturally. I haven’t been called Hollywood in so long, I almost jump when I hear it. None of my new friends knew even my first name was Holly, so there was no chance I would ever be called Hollywood ever again. 

“Hey, Spencer.” I respond, my voice soft as if it’s the first time it’s ever been used. Saying his name again comes with an emotion that I can only describe as the feeling when you down a shot of whiskey; at first, it’s gross; it feels wrong. But within seconds, it gives you that warm, snuggly feeling like you’ve never felt the touch of cold air in your life. My face is hot again, and I know he can see it. 

We get to talking, reminiscing about the days of our past.

Our laughs echo through the air, bouncing off the small drops falling from the sky. The two of us are squished together under Spencer’s jacket, making our best effort to shield ourselves from the cold raindrops. It’s not working, but I don’t care. I would spend eternity shivering and soaked under this makeshift shelter, as long as I got to do it with him. 

We’re running, as fast as we can together, through the puddles and muddy grass. Thunder booms through the sky; I squeal, and we’re laughing all over again. By the time we finally get back to the front step of his house, it’s a complete downpour. We made it just in time. I don’t even notice how cold it is anymore. Before we walk through the door, he turns me around and kisses me, smearing my black and red face paint all over his face, putting both of us in yet another laughing fit. 

Before we know it, a woman in a pale blue dress stands and taps her glass with her cutlery, silencing the room. I don’t pay attention to what she’s saying. All that’s running through my head is the man sitting next to me. All those years ago, I would’ve thought the first wedding we were at together would be our own. It would have never crossed my mind that we’d be here, having not spoken to each other in years. 

Spencer leans over to whisper something, but I’m so deep in thought that I don’t hear him. He laughs at me, and I’m embarrassed. I’m praying he doesn’t know I was thinking about him, but at the same time there’s something in me that wants him to know. 

“Where are you, Hollywood? I see the wheels turning.” I can’t tell him where my mind is right now. We haven’t seen each other in 6 years; he broke my heart and moved on like it was nothing. I shouldn’t want to be here talking to him. I shouldn’t be sitting here daydreaming about him. Hell, it was 6 years ago! I need to get over myself. But every time he smiles at me, every time we make eye contact, I can feel my heart skip a beat just the same as it used to. 

“Shut up, I’m listening.” I lied. I can see that he knows I’m lying. I don’t know how, but that was always his superpower. He always knew when I was lying about something, even minor things. He also knew I was lying because he knows I’m not one for speeches. I can’t help it; they bore me. 

It should be considered some twisted miracle that we’re here together. I’m not even sure why he’s here. I was friends with the bride for a short time, way back in highschool. Apparently that earned me a spot at her wedding. I can’t lie, the whole thing is beautiful, but I feel so out of place. I don’t know these people. The bride did come to talk to me at some point in the night, but other than that, I’ve just been hanging around by myself. Maybe that’s why I was so keen to start conversing with Spencer; the sense of familiarity comforted me. Maybe he calmed my nerves. Or, maybe he frazzled them all up again. I can’t tell, but I don’t mind either way. I’ve always wondered if I would ever see him again. I just didn’t expect it to be like this. At least I look nice, though I know he would say I do no matter the occasion. 

The night came and went. I spent the rest of it sitting next to Spencer, getting lost in conversation. We chatted like it was just yesterday that we were riding in his old, beat up Ford, parading the streets of our small town like we owned the place.  

“Man, those were the days.” he says, slapping his hands on his knees. Yes, they were. He checks his watch and starts out of his seat. 

“Well, it’s getting late, Hollywood. I’d better head out.” I don’t want him to leave, or if he does, I want to go with him. I want to yell at him. 

“Don’t leave me again! Stay, please!” 

I don’t do that. I know it’s not that deep. Like I said, it’s a miracle we’re even here together. I think he can see the expression on my face. Not that I made a big deal of trying to hide it. 

I see him pondering. He opens his mouth for just a split second, like he’s going to say something to me, but he stops himself. 

“What? What is that?” I ask him. I want him to ask me to come with him. I would do anything to leave this wedding and go with him. I don’t know where he’s going, but I don’t care. I’d go anywhere with him. 

To my surprise, he says exactly that. He asks if I want to go with him to his truck. He “has something to show me”. So I go. I follow him down the grassy hill to the small lake that meets us at the bottom. 

“Why are you here by yourself?” he asks me as we sit down in the green grass, overlooking the lake. I don’t know why I hesitate to answer. 

“Why are you? Don’t you have some girl to be here with?” I reply. I’ll admit, my question came out kind of cold. Kind of like, “I know you always have a different girl every week. Where’s this week's edition?” I didn’t mean it that way.

He scoffs. “When’d you get so cold, Hollywood?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.” I pick a single blade of grass out from under me, twirling it around my fingers. I watch the way it bends and folds under the pressure of my hands. I really didn’t mean to offend him. I don’t know why I said it that way. I don’t know why I’m so nervous, now that it’s just the two of us. I don’t know why I don’t know so many things all of the sudden. 

He reaches over and tucks my hair behind my ear. I look up at him and my heart is racing. I swear it was going to come right out of my chest. He smirks at me, and I see his eyes flutter down to my lips, even for just a second. We’ve only been talking to each other for a few hours, after so many years, but in the back of my mind I’m thinking “You don't have to just look at them. They’re all yours.”

At this point, I’m afraid the man can read my mind. He leans in and he kisses me. I kiss him back, like it’s nothing new. It feels so right. My heart is exploding now, and I know he can tell. His hand reaches through my hair, the other grabbing my face, just like the rainy day on his front porch. I don’t ever want this moment to end. I could stay here, kissing him on the grass, for the rest of my life. 

Evidently, that’s almost exactly what we did. Obviously, we left the wedding together. I mean, how could we not? I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing him again, for the second time around. So, we made a deal. We would never leave each other’s side. We would be there for each other, through thick and thin, in sickness and in health. And every year, we would go down to the lake and sit in the grass together, talking (and kissing) just like we did that night. 

Well, I guess “making a deal” is a funny way to put it. It’s just a tiny bit bigger than making a deal with each other. Especially when it’s sealed with an “I do”.