Reuniting With Yourself

“I can’t believe that you made it. Girl. I mean, I just can’t.”

“I know… I know, isn’t it amazing!!!” Is what Claire meant to say with a bounce as her childhood bestie, Gail, smothered her in a hug. Instead, Claire’s arms barely warped around her friend as she rocked with Gail. Awkwardly accepting the hug like she was playing dead in front of a bear. 

“Well, we’ll have to do something more. You don’t escape. I will be right back.”

Gail weaved through the crowd, leaving Claire alone in a sea of doppelgangers a decade older than her graduating class. Claire smiled and waved as she made her way around the highschool gymnasium decorated for the event. 

“Claire? Claire, is that you?” A whale of a man welcomed her as if she never came home. Claire returned at least twice a year besides the mandatory holiday trips. 

“Jerry?” Claire said. “Oh, my…. You… You look great.”

“Down thirty-three pounds to 398. I broke 400 and can’t believe it.”

Neither can I. I was so worried about you. After your dad died you really lost it. You lost yourself, but look at you now. Pulling yourself back.

“I never doubted you. Ever.” Claire said with a forced smile.

“Thanks. Later?” 

“Of course.”

Jerry was the person Claire stayed in contact with the most, which meant he occasionally texted her back. At one point, Jerry was the star of their school. A two sport Division 1 scholarship athlete, Jerry should have gone pro, but life derailed him. Doctors diagnosed his dad with cancer. Jerry took a job at as a host, which quickly evolved into assistant GM of a local resultant based on nothing more than his rural fame. 

In high school Claire had never been Jerry’s arm candy. Always waiting for him at his locker, helping with homework, and even changing her class schedule to always be in sight. Instead of romance friendship blossomed. As Jerry plowed a path to the punch, she was okay with that outcome. Despite the slight twinge of longing, they didn’t want the same style of life.

More greetings, hugs, and handshakes. They praised Claire for how good she looked and how she hadn’t aged. Claire pulled her bangs out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ears as she chuckled through a forced smile. Techniques mastered at this school to get through the uncomfortable banter. Claire felt guilty accepting the hollow and shallow praise because tonight she had donned her mask. 

Claire didn’t wear makeup anymore. College and changing trends had pummeled that habit out of her. Tonight she wore the mask as if the last ten years hadn’t happened. That afternoon, deft hands went through practiced motions. The same way that your arms wrap around your grandmother as if they had never left. It was another part of the armor she wore to get through these events. One she partially let down when her closest friends found Claire again.

“My god girl, you have got to get up on stage.”

“I really don’t,” Claire replied to Gail who had returned as karaoke began.

“You should,” Tevin said. Raising his glass to the stage, showcasing his lean, toned body framed in a perfectly cut suit. “I haven’t heard you in years.”

“I could say the same to you,” Claire reminded him with a grin.

“You could, but everyone knew you sang.”

“But I know you can.”

“You two… stop… hic… just get up there and sing. You can screw later.” 

Amber tilted on heels she shouldn’t wear anymore. The embodiment of someone whose best days had been at this school. She wasn’t prom queen or a cheerleader. Amber saw more C’s than B’s, never an A and the only D’s were the two she wore. Maybe best described as the embodiment of FOMO or YOLO. Amber had lived. The bold girl made out with college guys and dragged her friends onto the dance floor. Throwing her hair back, Amber would stay out till three and still be in a pew at seven on Sunday morning. She drank, smoked, partied, and raised the spirts of everyone she met, somehow coming out of school mostly unscathed.

Now Amber was single, bouncing between jobs in this town. She tried secondary school, but everyone, including Amber, knew that wouldn’t last. Despite doubt, Amber took out a crippling amount of debt to prove that theory correct. Dreams of the stage devolved to becoming a nurse, then a teacher before she settled on finding someone to love. Eventually Amber was content holding down whatever job kept a roof over her head. That meant Amber currently worked full time at the gas station, part time as a waitress, and drove delivery when she could.

Living here requires a mask. Growing up does. Parents, teachers asked you to tell them what was wrong. To be open and honest, But when you did, their advice always fell back to: “It could be worse” or “It will get better.” “This isn’t that bad,” or some combination of the three. They lied. Sure, your problems are not always that bad, but perspective takes experience, which comes with age. They don’t blame a baby for not knowing how to walk or count, but they blame a child for not handling adversity as they should. Adults lose perspective when a child can talk. To be honest, I think we all forget what it is to fail and learn when we discover settling is easier than trying. 

The conversation was white noise to Claire’s thoughts. She couldn’t take her eyes off Amber and how far she had fallen. Too proud to accept help, Claire resigned herself to a sigh and their quarterly calls. Hoping Amber would find her way out of this funk.

“So you will do it?”

Straw splitting a pinched lipped smile, Claire nodded yes to Amber’s question.

Going onto the stage was the least Claire could do for Amber. The lives of the rest of the possy had evolved. Tonight was what Amber had. It kept her going. If singing on stage would make a difference, it was the least Claire could do. 

Tevin joined her.

“What are you doing?”

“Singing I guess. Which I think means I should pick the song.”

“That’s fair,” Claire agreed, swaying with a smirk and laugh. “But don’t be too mean.”

“I won’t.”

Claire watched the suit jacket stretch over Tevin’s broad shoulders and didn’t notice as her arm draped across her taut abdomen, as the other curled an escaped bang. She bit her lip as her gaze traveled from his shoulders to the rest of Tevin’s tight body. Anyone watching Claire undress Tevin would think they were destined to get back together. 

“Like what you see?” Tevin asked as he offered Claire a mic. 

“Shut up and give me that.”

 Claire’s cosmetic mask hid her blush as the first few notes transported Tevin and Claire back to her bedroom. A place they spent many hours serenading each other. Passing her cheap twangy acoustic back and forth as they attempted to express puppy love. 

The room turned as Tevin sang. The hum of dialogue vanishing as everyone looked at Tevin. Even when Claire sang, the disbelief that the ROTC kid could sing had everyone entranced. People discarded thoughts of their reunion. Ignored were the smiles, glances, and chemistry between the performers. Signals sent when Claire and Tevin eyes locked as if they had found their long-lost love were snubbed to enjoy Tevin’s tones.

Cheers erupted as the song ended. Tevin grabbed Claire’s hand forcing her to follow him in an exaggerated bow before he bashfully waved off requests for another. Claire exited the stage right into Gail’s arms. 

“You have got to get back together.”

“I’m not sure that is-”

“-It is,” Gail cut her off. “Look. I have got to get Amber to, well, some place with a couch and water. But, I don’t want to hear about you letting this situation pass you up,” Gail said. Supporting Amber as her eyes encircled Claire and Tevin. 

The night dragged after Gail left Claire alone with her thoughts near the slowly emptying punch bowl. The high point of the night had passed to Claire. More meetings and greetings. Empty platitudes about keeping in touch piled on top of congratulations decorum required for singing on stage. Claire’s mask was falling, wilted like old spinach, before she could disengage and make it outside.

“Have room for another?” Claire said as she approached Tevin. The air swirling her aqua and green dress as she swung her black hand-stitched, vegan purse ahead of her.

“For you? Always.”

“I’m surprised you still have this thing,” 

Tevin’s car groaned as he scooted over in welcome. Rust lightly scratched Claire as she joined him on the Mustang’s familiar hood.

“Have to keep something from this place.”

He doesn't think we should be together? I mean… I mean… Claire couldn’t control the thoughts after Tevin’s eyes found her soul behind her makeup cowl.

The stars blinked in quantities Claire was no longer accustomed as she looked away and they settled into a conflicted silence. Awkward because of the sexual tension hanging between them. Teen like their two taut bodies had escaped the freshman fifteen, the weight of stress eating, and the general ravages of time. Concurrently though, the silent embrace of each other’s company was comfort enough. 

“How do you do it?” Claire broke the still air. “I stay in contact. Come back as often as possible, and yet when I’m here all that I get is: ‘You’re not here enough,’ or ‘I wish I heard from you more.’ Here, look at my phone. Look at how many of these people texted me back.”

The smartphone’s glow invaded Tevin’s vision as he pulled himself up to humor Claire. 

“Stop laughing… Stop… Give that back.”

Tevin pulled the phone away from her outstretched arms as light chuckles morphed into guttural belly laughs that drowned the hum of the party. A flash. Then practiced hands grabbed his own phone. Skilled fingers navigating it before pushing both devices into Claire’s hands. 

“Tell me who they are.”

“They are me.” 

“No. They are not. Look again.”

Claire could almost smell her mom’s chocolate chip cookies or the perfume Tevin loved when she looked at the picture he had just taken. She could hear the bell ringing and even taste Tevin on her lips. 

“Tonight you brought Clarisa out for a spin. Not that I’m complaining, but I like Claire more.”

Gritty, dry dirt slipped through her fingers as the smell of earth and dung hit Claire’s nose. This image was far from glamorous, but her grin was so big that light glared off her teeth obscuring the lens. Joy flooded her, dwarfing the reason her sophomore seminar had visited this farm. Memories of camaraderie and happiness overcoming her as she remembered the good they had done playing in the dirt. 

“You asked how I do it? Well, I don’t pretend. Staying in contact with everyone is not something I guilt trip myself over. I don’t avoid them, I still reach out, but I don’t let it dictate my life. I’m not T-bone, or T dog anymore. They may still view me that way. They may even call me that here, but I understand that I’m not that person anymore. I don’t hold the person I used to be in contempt. I just recognize that they are not who I am. The same way I don’t hold those G-men accountable for not being their super bowl selves. I understand that every year, moment, or instance can be a new season and I am not the same person I was when we were here. So who is here with me? Claire or Clarisa?”

Stars could barely light Claire’s mask, but the shine of her smile shone through it. 

“Give me a minute to get this stuff off and then let’s get out of here. I think it’s time Claire and Tevin meet.”