Some women daydream of other worlds. As for me, I live vicariously through my vintage patterns…They certainly live a more glamorous and exciting life than I do…
It had been twenty years since I’d last seen most of the people in the room. I was a gawky, clumsy, and socially inept teenager. I was miserable throughout high school and couldn’t wait to escape from my California hometown after graduation by going to college and then graduate school on the other side of the country.
It was during graduate school that a classmate took pity on me and introduced me to a world that I thought only existed in books and on television. Under my friend’s guidance, I came out of my cocoon and became the woman I always wanted to be: Beautiful, gracious, and elegant. With my new found confidence, I quickly rose through the academic ranks as a professor at a prestigious university.
I swore I’d never go to a class reunion, but here I was. My high school BFF knew I would be in town for a family event and guilted me into attending since she was the chair of the reunion committee.
As I looked around the room, wondering how long I needed to stay before I could make my escape, he walked into the room. My BFF gasped and swore to me that she had no idea he would be there.
“He” had been the star athlete. The one that I had a crush on my entire time in high school. The one I just knew I was going to marry. The one who didn’t even know I existed. Well, that’s not entirely true. He knew I existed because I could still hear his teasing and mocking ringing in my ears.
Tall and still handsome, he scanned the room and his eyes locked in on me. He grabbed an extra glass of champagne and walked toward me. Even all of these years later, it was obvious that he was used to getting who and what he wanted.
He was extremely attentive and I flirted shamelessly with him all through the cocktail hour and dinner. He couldn’t believe my transformation. I couldn’t believe I was talking to him. I was feeling grateful for listening to the perky workout instructor who encouraged me to “think of results I could see” every morning at 5:00.
As the evening came to a close, he walked me out to my car. I was aware of him towering over me. As he leaned in for a kiss, I could feel my skirt rip as I kneed him. A direct blow right where it counts. The rip was worth it as he folded over in pain.
“That was for all of the gawky, awkward teenage girls who suffer all through high school because of guys like you.”
I’m not sure, but I think I heard cheers from the other women as I drove away…