Wednesday night, 9pm. The kids were asleep, and it was now time for Wyatt and Scarlett's weekly scheduled sexual encounter. Scarlett, on her back - her thighs wrapped around Wyatt's hips - was moaning loudly into the sock she'd stuffed in her mouth, while Wyatt worked as best as he could to keep her happy. She gripped the sock, removed it and started talking.

"Come on, come on, give it to me," Scarlett whispered sensually, winking up at him.

"Give what to you?" Wyatt asked, grunting, sweat running down his forehead.

"You know what," she replied.

"I...wha...a...a venereal disease?" Wyatt asked, squinting, making Scarlett crack up.

She started laughing so hard that she pushed him off of her and rolled onto her side, doubling over in laughter. Wyatt rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, his feet up on the pillow near her head. He smirked, and rested his hands on his chest as she rolled back onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, running her nails up his leg next to her head.

"Do you remember the first time we had sex?" Scarlett asked, and Wyatt nodded.

"Yeah, I do," he said, "that was my first time. I was nervous because you were so beautiful, and I didn't wanna ruin your makeup."

"Awww, you're so dorky," Scarlett said, chuckling and kissing his ankle. Wyatt turned and climbed up, lying beside her, running his hands through her reddish blonde hair, losing his fingers in its depth as he looked in her eyes.

"I still worry about that," he said quietly.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah, you always look so perfect," Wyatt said, "I just...don't wanna ruin that."

He shut his eyes and rested, as Scarlett stared at his face. This face she'd seen every single day for the last 15 years almost. So familiar, so comforting. She didn't know what she'd do if she had to face even a single day without his face in her presence. She buried her face into his neck and pulled his arms around her. He squeezed her gently, and she smiled. Scarlett Bloom had it really good.

The following morning, Wyatt was sitting at the breakfast table reading the newspaper. His almost 11 year old daughter was sitting at the table, tapping her spoon on her cereal bowl, and it was starting to grate on his nerves. He sighed, lowered the newspaper and looked at her.

"Alright, what?" he finally asked.

"I'm tired of cereal," Mona said, "I want something different."

"Well there's an entire pantry of breakfast food in the kitchen, just pick something," Wyatt said, "Have a poptart if you want."

"Mommy won't let me have poptarts for breakfast, she says they're too sugary," Mona said, sitting back and crossing her arms in annoyance. Wyatt glanced at her, his brow furrowing, as he leaned forward.

"Really?" he asked, making her nod; he looked towards the staircase, knowing Scarlett was in the shower, before looking back at his daughter and adding, "well, mom's not in charge of breakfast today. I am, and I think poptarts are on the menu."

Mona squealed, then raced from the table to the kitchen. Wyatt smiled to himself as he went back to reading his paper and sipping his coffee. Scarlett hurried down the stairs about 10 minutes later, drying her hair with a towel as she kissed Mona's head, who was by then seated back at the table eating her poptart. Scarlett patted Wyatt on the shoulder and leaned down beside him.

"Evan isn't feeling well," she said.

"Does he have a fever?"

"Yeah, so I'm thinking if you'll run Mona into school on your way into work, I can stay behind and look over him," Scarlett said. Wyatt nodded and kissed her hand, telling Mona to finish her poptart and get her backpack. As he piled his daughter and himself into the car, Wyatt couldn't help but look around his small, safe neighborhood and exhale deeply as he watched a long line of other parents - all of whom looked exactly like him and Scarlett, who lived in houses just like theirs, with children just like theirs - do the same thing. Was this all there was to life after school?

Wyatt climbed into the car and started it up, fastening his seatbelt, waiting for Mona to buckle hers before he pulled out of the driveway. He dropped Mona off at school, waited until he saw her get indoors, and then headed downtown towards the office. When he showed up, he headed straight for his office, mostly so he could check his messages, but as soon as he was inside, he heard his secretary knocking lightly on the door as she entered, a bad habit he'd yet to break her of. He smiled up at her as she walked in cautiously.

"Sir, Peterson is in Conference Room B, and says he needs you to join him," she said, "there's a guest here to see you two."

"...a guest?" Wyatt asked, confused, "alright sure, thank you Winona."

Wyatt checked his work messages, made a quick phone call and then headed down the hall to conference room b. Upon entrance, he was surprised not just to find Peterson looking worried, but also to see their guest, sitting there calmly as could be...none other than Celia Moss.

                                                                                                   ***

Scarlett had never in her life expected to be a stay at home mom.

She had never really given up on the idea of being a parent, in fact she'd always assumed she would be, but she also had never really counted on being the kind of parent who stayed home and took care of the kids, and more the kind of parent who paid someone to do that sort of work while she went to a high profile business somewhere. But once she had the kids, she found she didn't really trust anyone to watch the kids other than herself and her husband. Well, and their usual babysitter. Evan was napping, having taken some cold medicine, so Scarlett might have been playing "stay at home mom", but she found today she had quite a bit of alone time on her hands.

She figured she'd tidy up the house a bit, and maybe get some reading done. Lately she'd been reading awful romance novels, mostly because she didn't seem to have the concentration for anything more genuine, but it was good enough for the time being. Lying on the couch, baby monitor on the coffee table beside her, Scarlett was chewing on her lip as she read when she heard a knock at the door. Scarlett was somewhat surprised, as she hadn't been expecting anyone. Nonetheless, she got up and went to answer it, only to find Wyatt's mom on the porch.

"Oh," Scarlett said, genuinely unprepared to see her, "Priscilla, what are you doing here?"

"I actually need to borrow your sewing machine," Priscilla said, "if that's okay. I'm trying to alter some curtains I've been working on, and mine jammed up. I remember you used to make Mona's Halloween costumes when she was little, and so I figured-"

She heard a little moan come from the baby monitor and glanced at it, then back at Scarlett.

"Is someone here?" she whispered.

"It's Evan, he doesn't feel well, and you don't have to whisper, he can't hear you through it," Scarlett said, trying not to laugh, "and yeah, you can absolutely use my sewing machine. Come in. I'll have to dig it out, it's in the garage at the moment because I haven't used it in ages."

Priscilla followed Scarlett further into the house, and through the kitchen to the door that led into the garage. Scarlett put her book down on the kitchen table before entering the garage, and Priscilla stole a quick glance at it the book before following Scarlett into the garage.

"Everything okay between you two?" Priscilla asked.

"What?" Scarlett asked as she dragged a small stepladder to a shelf and started climbing it.

"In my experience the only women who read awful romance novels are the ones who are unsatisfactorily pleased with their marriage," Priscilla said, making Scarlett laughed.

"No, god, it's just something to waste some time in," Scarlett said, "Wyatt and I are perfectly fine. I would like to get back to reading more complex literature, I just...I don't have the time or patience, and I'm always so fried after being with the kids, so I just don't have a very good attention span anymore. This at least keeps my hobby alive in some way, so maybe one day I can get to the stuff I actually wanna read."

"You won't," Priscilla said, surprising Scarlett, who - while gripping her sewing machine and trying to scoot it towards her off the shelf - looked over her shoulder at her mother in law, a grimace on her face.

"What?"

"You won't ever get to it," Priscilla said, "you'll lose all your hobbies. I did. Every woman does. We like to pretend we don't, maybe by keeping them alive vicariously through our children, but in the end we're all just moms and nothing else. It sounds hopelessly depressing, I know, but you get used to it. Just be glad you and Wyatt still like one another. That's more than most couples have."

"Uh, thanks for the concern," Scarlett said, climbing down the stepladder and handing her the sewing machine now, "but I still have hobbies and I don't intend to lose them simply because I chose to pop out a few kids. I was having problems concentrating on reading well before I had children."

"I'm just letting you know what happened to me, and so many of my friends," Priscilla said, taking the sewing machine, then asking, "when do you need this back?"

"You know what, why don't you keep it for a while," Scarlett said with a smile.

Anything to keep Priscilla from coming back anytime soon.

                                                                                                ***

"I'm representing a nature conservation society, specifically one interested in defending the rights of an endangered insect, whose main habitat just happens to be where you're interested in logging, leveling and constructing on soon," Celia said, opening a file and sliding two pieces of paper - both identical - to Peterson and Wyatt. Wyatt took the paper and started skimming it, his lips reading silently; Celia continued, "We're willing to not move forward with court proceedings, granted you give us adequate time to perhaps relocate enough of the species."

"...that sounds fair," Wyatt said, surprising Peterson, who looked at him in near disbelief. Wyatt had been brought onto the board at his young age because he was a shark, and he often took these kinds of people to town for the sake of the company, saving them face.

"I figured you'd understand," Celia said, smiling, "We'll have another proposal ready for you in a few weeks. I have to get going, your firm is one of the few I have to stop at today and serve papers to."

Celia stood up, pulling her purse onto her shoulder, as Wyatt quickly stood up and followed her out of the room.

"Let me walk you to the elevator," Wyatt said.

Wyatt and Celia headed down the hallway, and stopped at the elevator, where Wyatt pushed a button, calling it to their floor.

"I didn't know you worked here," Celia said after a moment, "believe me, this didn't give me some kind of perverse pleasure or anything. Honestly, if anything it just made me feel worse, because after our talk at the reunion, you don't seem like the kind of person whose out for oil and industry."

"I'm honestly, not, I only have the job I have because my father was friends with the chairman," Wyatt replied, "and it pays well, and I have to make good money to afford to take care of two kids and a wife, so. You ever think about the irony in your last name associated with your line of work?"

Celia chuckled, nodding as the elevator doors opened and they stepped inside; she pushed the main floor button and said, "Actually yes, all the time, it's one of the few things people realize about me pretty quickly. You know, your last name is Bloom, that could also work well in my line of work, given how much effort we put into saving flora and fauna."

"Heh, yeah, sure, but I can't just switch careers at the drop of a dime," Wyatt said, "it would raise too many eyebrows, and in the suburbs you need to remain as unremarkable and disinteresting as possible to your neighbors, otherwise you run the risk of their kids alienating your kids, which in turn makes your kids hate you."

Celia suddenly pushed the emergency stop button and turned towards Wyatt. She started digging through her purse and pulled out a card, handing it to him.

"This is my personal business card. Call me when you find yourself sick of the suburbs, the fake plasticity of it all, and decide you wanna do something more with your life. And believe me, that moment will come. Ignoring your dissatisfaction only gets you so far, trust me on that."

Wyatt slipped the card into his back pants pocket and looked at her, confused.

"...do you have kids, Celia?"

"Yeah, a son," she replied, hitting the button so the elevator would continue its decline.

"So you know what it's like to do something you dislike so your kids can have a good life then?" Wyatt asked and Celia, not looking at him, bit her lip.

"I did," she said, "before I left my husband. Women put up with a lot when they're married, and almost always silently and alone. You and Scarlett seem happy, but trust me, she's grappling with it too. Eventually everyone wants something a little more than what they have, even if what they have feels perfect. Contrary to popular belief, perfection isn't unattainable, but it is unsustainable."

The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. Celia looked at Wyatt and smiled again.

"See you soon," Celia said, shaking his hand before leaving.

                                                                                                  ***

When Wyatt got home that evening, having stopped off to bring dinner in, he found Scarlett lying facedown on the couch in the living room, her face muffled against a pillow. He set his briefcase and then the bag full of food on the coffee table before standing and looking down at her.

"You okay, mopey?" he asked.

"Do you think I'm anything other than a mom? Do you still see me as a person?" Scarlett asked, and Wyatt sat down on the arm on the couch, running his hand up her back.

"Of course I do," he said, "what makes you think you're not?"

"Your mom," Scarlett said, somewhat muffled by the pillow.

"Well okay, you don't have to tell me, but insults from the early 2000s doesn't help," Wyatt said, making her laugh.

"No, literally, your mother," Scarlett said, rolling her head to the side so her face was visible now, looking up at him, "she stopped by today to borrow my sewing machine and she told me how she and all her peers just exist in the shadow of their former selves. How all women eventually lose who they were, lose their hobbies and interest, and just...are nothing but mothers."

"Yeah well, my mother might not be the best voice of reason when it comes to how women turn out. After all, she she bought into the whole spandex exercise tape fad of the 80s, so," Wyatt said, "Anyone who fell for that automatically loses their credibility in my eyes."

Scarlett sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, sniffling, smiling at him.

"What did you bring for dinner?"

"Thai food, and I brought you a box of eclairs," Wyatt said softly, kissing her nose.

"The kids are asleep," Scarlett said, "Do you wanna eat down here and talk about our respective days?"

"That sounds disgustingly wholesome," Wyatt said, chuckling, "I would love to do that."

So Wyatt and Scarlett bloom ate their dinner, and their desserts, and they talked about their day. Scarlett told Wyatt all about his mothers visit, about how she and Evan eventually read some storybooks when he was feeling better, and Wyatt told her about his day at work, which was fairly uneventful. But he didn't tell her about Celia. For whatever reason, a reason even he himself couldn't fathom, that was something he wanted to keep to himself.

And Celia, that night, was reading her son his favorite bedtime story. Once he fell asleep, she turned on his motion lamp that threw lighted silhouettes of dinosaurs on the walls of his bedroom. She kissed his head and then headed to her own bedroom. She got into her pajamas and climbed into her bed, picking up a book from her nightstand and flipping to her bookmarked section. But she couldn't read. She found herself increasingly distracted by the idea of working with Wyatt.

No, she thought, no.

The last thing she needed to complicate her life was romance with a married man.

She'd worry about that another day.

Wyatt Bloom was standing downstairs, leaning against the rail, picking at his tie as their babysitter, Gracie, stood beside him. He sighed and let go of his tie before looking at Gracie.

"What do you think of this tie?" he asked, "Does this say 'casual' or 'competitive'? I wanna come across as friendly, approachable, not intimidating."

"Please, like you've ever been intimidating," Scarlett shouted down from the bathroom, making Wyatt and Gracie laugh.

"I think it's nice," Gracie said, shrugging, "It's very colorful. I don't think it says approachable or intimidating, I think it just says....fun."

"I'll take fun, people like fun," Wyatt said, running his hand up his neck into his scruffy short dirty blonde hair; he checked his watch and snapped his fingers, "Come on woman, we're gonna be late! I realize we're going back to highschool, but that doesn't mean you have to put as much effort into your appearance as you used to!"

"Screw you!" Scarlett shouted down again.

"Did you and Mrs. Bloom meet in high school?" Gracie asked, and Wyatt nodded.

"Oh yeah, we've been together for a long time," Wyatt said, "I remember the first time I saw her face."

                                                                                            ***

In fact, the first time Wyatt Bloom saw Scarlett Demure's face, it was in the nurses office. Wyatt was on the baseball team and had pulled his shoulder, while Scarlett, being a cheerleader, had fallen off the top of the pyramid and onto her nose on the ground. As Wyatt entered, he was instantly taken aback by the beautiful blonde sitting in a chair, holding an ice pack to her nose. He took a seat beside her, groaning as he shifted to relieve tension in his muscle.

"What happened to you?" he asked, making her shake her head.

"Carla Mikoni can't hold anything over her head, that's what," Scarlett said.

"Not surprised, she's so thin she makes anorexia jealous," Wyatt said, making Scarlett laugh and immediately apologize for laughing, which made Wyatt smirk; he added, "That was in poor taste, sorry. Still, something wrong with that girl. She's like a bird."

"You should hear her talk," Scarlett said.

"No thank you," Wyatt replied.

"What about you? What're you in for?" Scarlett asked.

"I pulled my shoulder pitching," Wyatt said, "But it'll be fine. I just need to sit a few days out. Let me see your nose."

Scarlett hesitated, then reluctantly pulled the ice pack away, showing off her nose, which really looked okay except for the stained blood. Wyatt shrugged and leaned back into his seat.

"I think you look fine," he said, "But I'd love to see you with a good nose to really make a proper comparison."

And that was all it took to make Scarlett love him. For some people, sometimes it really was that simple.

                                                                                           ***

Sitting in the car, driving towards the high school, Wyatt tapped his fingers on the steering wheel while Scarlett primped at her hair in the rearview mirror. He scoffed as he turned to see this behavior, laughing a little, which made her grimace.

"Don't even judge, buddy. You have no idea how seriously women take these sorts of reunions. It's all about the looks department. Nobody cares how well a woman has done in the business world, alright? If she isn't moderately attractive still, then she's lost all her credibility."

"Wait, what...you're telling me you have credibility?" Wyatt asked, "I am shocked! Why wasn't I made aware of this?"

She laughed and slapped his arm.

"More credibility than you these days," she said.

"Can't argue with that," he replied, before adding, "...so who do you think is gonna be at this thing? You think everyone's gonna be there? I can't really imagine there being a lot of people I'm looking forward to seeing that I didn't bother staying in touch with."

"I'm sure there's some folks we'll be happy to see, like Robbie," Scarlett said, "Remember Robbie? He was the only male cheerleader in the whole group. I've always wondered what he got up to, and I always regretted never staying in touch with him."

"God, I'd forgotten about Robbie, honestly," Wyatt said, "That would be fun."

Honestly, Wyatt hadn't really been all that interested in returning to the high school. He'd long since moved on, and had grown somewhat ashamed of who he'd once been, and how he'd treated certain people while he'd been there. He was worried returning might bring some of that person back, and that genuinely frightened him. But Scarlett was excited to go, and she wouldn't go without him, so he did it as a favor to his wife. She was his best friend, after all.

He'd do anything to make her happy.

                                                                                             ***

Rachel Minnow sat in her car in the school parking lot, staring ahead at the auditorium, wanting go turn and run instead of getting out and going inside. She didn't want to be here, but she desperately wanted to see someone, and this was the only way she could do so without feeling like an outright stalker. She checked her lipstick one more time in the mirror before getting out of the car and heading towards the building.

The music was already too loud, and she wasn't even inside yet. She was starting to wish she'd brought a pair of earplugs or headphones, but somehow that would seem rude, even though that sort of behavior was totally normal as teenagers when they went here. Go figure. She cleared her throat as she approached the door and pushed it open, the light inside blinding her as she stepped over the threshold and into the room. Just like high school, nobody turned to look when she entered, and she was grateful for that.

She walked in, somewhat stumbling in her heels, looking all around for the person she was hoping to see. As she pushed some errant strands of hair out of her face, she suddenly bumped into a tall, lanky man, who turned to look at her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Rachel said, "I didn't make you spill your drink did I?"

"Rachel?" the man asked, smiling, "It's me, Oliver Brighton, remember?"

"...I...no, I'm sorry, I don't remember," Rachel said, chewing her lip, "I'm sorry."

"Eh, it's fine, it's been a long time," Oliver said, adjusting his small glasses and lifting up his drink, sipping it, "didn't expect to see you, honestly."

"Really? Why's that?"

"I don't know," Oliver said, shrugging, "You were always sort of a loner, just didn't expect you to show up for a major social function filled with people who treated you poorly. But, then again, I'm here, and I was treated worse than you, so."

Rachel nodded, pulling at her hair as she looked around for the one person she was here to see. For all she cared, Oliver could be talking to the wall, because she was barely registering anything coming out of his mouth. She started to move through the crowd again, Oliver keeping up pace with her.

"Actually, I remember we were in home ec together, and we were teamed up once to make a set of curtains," Oliver said, "Do you...do you remember that?"

Rachel stopped, and then turned, looking at him.

"Actually I do, yeah," she said, "I still have those. They're hanging over my window in my apartment."

"Really? That's awesome to hear!" Oliver said, sounding genuinely thrilled.

"Oliver?" Rachel asked, "Do you know if Sun Rai is here? Have you seen her anywhere?"

"...no, can't say that I have, sorry," Oliver said, sounding dejected, adding, "but I can help you look for her if you'd like."

"That's okay, I'll do fine on my own. It was nice seeing you," Rachel said, now slinking away into the crowd, leaving Oliver to stand alone. As she made her way to one of the many refreshments tables, she bumped elbows with another woman standing there, and immediately recognized the charm bracelet dangling from her wrist. Rachel groaned and mumbled, "oh no" under her breath as the woman turned towards her.

"Rachel!" she said, grabbing and hugging her firmly.

"Hello Kelly," Rachel managed to say back, trying not to feel embarrassed.

                                                                                                ***

Calvin Klepper was sitting in on a small stairway right outside of the school near the backdoor of the auditorium, trying to escape the noise and commotion. He sighed and stroked his short beard, wishing he could be home right now. He pulled his wallet out and flipped it open, letting the pictures hang down like an accordian. He smiled faintly, and suddenly felt tears rolling down his face. He wiped them away swiftly with his sleeve, before collapsing his wallet again and stuffing it back into his coat pocket.

Just then he saw a pair of headlights pull into the parking lot, and watched as a nice car parked, and two adults stepped out. He instantly recognized Wyatt Bloom's voice, despite not having heard it in so many years. He could hear the woman, whom he recognized just as quickly as being Scarlett, laugh loudly, and watched as the two of them headed for the auditorium. He shook his head and continued to drink from his thermos full of coffee.

The last person he'd want to see would be Wyatt Bloom.

                                                                                                  ***

Rachel couldn't stand being squeezed this tightly, and struggled to pull away from Kelly Schuester's grip. After she finally managed to wriggle away, she stepped back and, politely, patted Kelly on the shoulder like an awkward family reunion with someone you hadn't seen since you were a baby.

"It's so good to see you!" Kelly said.

Kelly, from the looks of things, hadn't changed. She still somehow had braces, and her hair was still in braided pigtails. She looked exactly the same as she had when she and Rachel had been friends in school. Rachel had tried not to be so judgemental but it was hard, because here she was, thinking that Kelly apparently even still had her parents dress her, considering how awful her outfit was.

"Gee, you look exactly the same!" Kelly said, looking embarrassed now for having been so clingy.

"Uh, same to you," Rachel replied, trying to make her response not sound as harsh as she meant it to.

"I'm sorry, I was just...I was really hoping you'd show up, and until I saw you, I was doubting myself for even coming," Kelly said, "I mean, it's not like anyone else here is interested in seeing me, but I knew if you at least showed up, then it would've been worth it."

Okay, now Rachel felt bad. She actually hadn't even really not expected Kelly to be here, it was more that she'd completely forgotten about her altogether. Rachel quickly looked around for a way to escape from this torturous experience, only to spot the backdoor. She bit her lip and then looked back at Kelly, who was digging into her purse.

"You need to see this!" she said, "I brought it with just to show you!"

"Kelly, that's great, get it ready and I will be right back, okay?" Rachel said, quickly excusing herself towards the backdoor. As she pushed on the metal bar across the door, it lunged forward, letting her stumble out onto the small landing near the stone stair steps, only to find herself now next to Calvin, who was looking at her in surprise.

"It's hell in there, isn't it?" Calvin asked.

"It's weird," Rachel managed to say as she seated herself beside him and tossed her hair back, adding, "god, I didn't expect myself to get overwhelmed like this, but it's so painful to come back to such an awful place, full of such awful people who made awful memories for you but don't remember them themself. Somehow those formative moments for you were just another average day for them."

"Ran into an old friend?" Calvin asked, making her smirk.

"Yeah," she said, "and it's like, I feel bad, but...that's what high school is, right? You're friends because of the proximity, because nobody else will be friends with you, right? It's friendship based on survival and necessity, not genuine interest."

"Sure," Calvin said, "That's a fair assessment."

"Are you waiting for someone?" Rachel asked.

"Nah, I just don't wanna be in there," Calvin said, "You?"

"I came for the very same reason others came. To see someone. But I haven't seen her yet, so, I don't know if she even showed up," Rachel said, sighing, tugging at her hair, playing with it absentmindedly, continuing, "besides, she wouldn't even know me, so really I'm no better than the awkward weirdos I'm trying to avoid."

"I've seen everyone arrive, I could tell you if she's here or not," Calvin said.

"Sun Rai? Do you remember Sun Rai? She was the Vietnamese girl who was, like, the only foreign student who attended here? She was mostly in honors classes, but she and I shared gym class, and she got to sit out cause her parents paid the gym teacher off, and I got to sit out cause of my asthma, so we talked a bit, but only during those classes."

"I think I do remember her, yeah," Calvin said, "I don't think she showed up. I would've seen her, being the only foreign person to attend here. Sorry."

"It's fine. It's my fault for being dumb enough to expect her to come back," Rachel said, sighing sadly, "I guess that's what I get for getting my hopes up."

"That's the spirit," Calvin said, patting her back, "never expect anything good, cause reality will come and snatch it away."

Calvin's attitude at least made Rachel feel a bit better, being rather cynical herself. Rachel didn't want to go back inside to Kelly, so she opted instead to stay out here with Calvin and just talk shit about their former classmates, because as she'd learned during her friendship with Kelly, misery loves company.

                                                                                                 ***

"What?" Scarlett asked, mouth agape, eyes wide at this news Oliver had just told them.

"Yeah," Oliver said, "Robbie died in a car accident a few weeks ago, I'm surprised you guys didn't see the news."

"Jesus," Wyatt said, pinching his forehead, "that's...that's tragic. I feel so bad. I was hoping he'd be here. I need a minute."

Wyatt walked off, trying to process this. He hadn't expected people his age to already be dead, especially not people he'd known. He'd known it was always a possibility, but he'd always just pushed the possibility out of his head. He walked calmly through the crowd, finally reaching a table where an African American woman was seated, rubbing her feet. Wyatt said at the same table, and casually glanced over at her.

"You okay?" she asked, "You need aspirin?"

"No, I'll...I'll be okay. You?" he asked, pointing at her feet.

"These shoes are killing me. I never get out, so I never wear any nice shoes," she said, "bad enough to have to pay for a babysitter, but now I gotta walk for hours in these stupid spiked death traps."

Wyatt chuckled and looked at the nametag sticker she had on her jacket.

"Celia Moss," he read, "Celia Moss...why's that name sound so familiar?"

"Because I'm responsible for shutting down BigDrip last year," Celia said.

"Riiiight! They dumped excess oil in nearby lakes to write it off as stolen, so not only defrauding the government but also endangering the environment, that was a big damn deal," Wyatt said, "Well good for you, those guys were scum."

"Thanks," Celia said, smiling faintly, "and yes, they really were."

"So you're a lawyer or something?" Wyatt asked.

"An environmental lawyer, yeah," Celia said.

"That's really cool."

The two of them looked back out at the crowd, dancing, chatting, enjoying themselves as if they were still in high school. Wyatt loosened his tie and leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. Celia looked over at him and nodded.

"I like your tie," she said, "it's very fun, makes you very approachable."

Wyatt smiled again, almost blushing now.

"...I just learned a friend of mine died a few weeks ago," he said, "and it only reinforced the truth that I didn't wanna come back here. Most of these people were horrible when we were teenagers, and really they're no different as adults. They just aren't as open about it. Everyone has secrets. But...the fact that they're not as transparent is almost worse. At least when you're a teenager you almost take pride in your sleaze. You knew where everyone stood. Now I don't know who to trust, and frankly I don't feel like I'm that person anymore."

"I know what you mean," Celia said, strapping her shoes back on, "I don't feel like I relate to any of these people anymore either. I feel like just an ordinary, boring adult. Just another aging skeleton on a dying planet, clawing against the ever oncoming inevitable darkness."

"Jeez, Kafka," Wyatt said, "Save some edge for the rest of us."

Celia laughed loudly, throwing her head back, "I just...you know what I mean!" she said, "It's like...I feel like I matured, and these people didn't. I do what has to be done now because it's the right thing to do, not because it's what I want to do. I don't do it for my own selfish needs."

"Right. I wanna be a better person than I was in high school, otherwise what's the point of aging? I wanna be, just...you know, like...someone who grows, someone who learns and changes. I wanna be normal and boring and ordinary. Just one of the everyday people."

Celia nodded, feeling herself warm up to him. Wyatt smiled at her, feeling shy now about conversing this freely with a stranger. He adjusted his tie, smoothing it out, looking down at his dress shoes.

"Anyway, sorry to get so philosophical," he said.

"It's fine. Probably the most enlightening conversation I'll have all night, so thank you," Celia said softly.

And then Scarlett appeared at the table. She and Celia greeted one another politely before Celia excused herself, and Scarlett dragged Wyatt back to the crowd, to listen to more inane banter about people he'd rather have forgotten.

                                                                                             ***

On the drive home later, he looked over at his wife, half asleep in the passenger seat, somewhat tipsy from having drank most of the night, and he smiled. He reached over with his free hand and squeezed one of her hands. When they pulled into the driveway, he carried her inside and, after putting her to bed, he drove the babysitter home. When he got home, he pulled out the senior yearbook and turned to his graduating class, running his index finger along the page until he came across Celia's picture, and he smiled. That was a friendship he'd like to have.

Rachel, on the other hand, had arrived home in worst shape than she'd been in when she'd left. She cried all the way home, so when she got back to her dingy studio apartment over the coffee shop she worked at, she wiped all her now running makeup off her face and then took a quick shower. She laid on the couch and turned the television on, but put it on mute. She pulled out a photo of Sun Rai she'd clipped from the school paper back in the day - Sun in a beautiful suit at a debate tournament - and felt like she wanted to throw up. She'd tried so hard to forget Sun Rai, but she never could. She loved her just as much now as she had back then.

Calvin also returned home to less than stellar feelings. His folks weren't up when he got in, which he was grateful for, but he did find his mom had left him some dinner. He reheated it and ate before heading out to the shed in the backyard and locking the door behind him after entering. Once inside, he pulled out his tools and started back to work on his project, occasionally glancing up at the photo pinned on a corkboard on the wall, featuring a beautiful woman and two cute little girls. He was doing this for them, and he wouldn't them down.

And Celia arrived back home to her son happy to see her, and she wasn't even annoyed he was still awake. If anything, she was grateful. She cherished any time she got to spend with him. She relieved her babysitter, and then the two of them ate ice cream in her large bed, watching cartoons until he finally fell asleep against her, and she would then carry him to his bed, tucking him in. She'd stroke his hair and kiss his forehead. At least something good had come from that marriage.

And Kelly got home, only to curl up with her dog on her couch, and eat popcorn most of the evening as she watched nature documentaries. All she'd wanted to do was reconnect with her best friend, and Rachel had spent most of her time outside with Calvin. Kelly tried not to take it too personally, but it was hard not to, especially when the last thing Rachel had said to Kelly in high school had been to leave her alone because she was so lame. Stuff like that still stung so many years later.

But while everyone else arrived home with quiet and uneventful feelings, Oliver's arrival at the house was anything but. His daughters were looking out their bedroom window when they saw him pull into the driveway, and they quickly rushed and piled stuffed animals under their blankets in their beds, before hiding in the closet, just like most nights. He never came in and checked to see if it was really them, which they were thankful for. They just knew that most of the time, unless it was time for them to work again, he would leave them alone.

As Oliver climbed into bed, clicking his bedside lamp off, his wife, lying on her side, asked a question in the meekest voice.

"Did you have a good time?" she asked.

"It was fine," he said, removing his glasses and putting them on the nightstand.

"That's good," she mumbled, waiting for him to drift off so she could get back up and continue coming up with a plan on how to get away from this house. Away from this man. Because truth was, the men who seemed the worst like Wyatt often grew to be the best, and the men who went out of their way to appear the best, like Oliver, were actually the monsters. Passing themselves off as your average neighbor, citizen, upstanding friend and family member. Someone you'd never expect. They didn't look like monsters.

They just looked like everyday people.