Chapter 77: Like Old Times

By the time everyone returned to the decorated basketball court, dinner was late.

Giovanni looked at Alexander.

Alexander looked back at Giovanni.

Then both glanced toward the empty sandwich wrappers someone had already thrown away.

"You were right," Alex admitted.

Giovanni appeared almost offended by the surprise.

"I usually am."

"Don’t ruin the moment."

Fortunately, the food wasn’t cold.

Not all of it, anyway.

The reunion committee had arranged buffet service rather than formal plated meals, which meant everyone could eat whenever they managed to stop talking long enough to find a plate.

Alexander avoided the peanut sauce.

Giovanni noticed.

"Good."

Alex looked at him.

"I can manage my own allergies."

"I know."

"Stop monitoring my plate."

"Then stop stealing potatoes from mine."

Alexander put down the potato he’d just stolen.

"No."

Their table included Patrick, Elena, Samuel, Claire, and several others who rotated in and out as the conversation shifted.

The questions were ordinary.

Where do you live now?

Still in the same profession?

Married?

Children?

How are your parents?

Nobody turned the conversation into a competition.

Not really.

Samuel mentioned he’d opened his own legal practice but immediately followed it with, "So if any of you ever need someone to tell you not to sign something stupid, call me."

Claire worked in education now.

"My students think I’m ancient."

"How old are they?" Alexander asked.

"Thirteen."

"Then everyone over twenty is ancient."

Elena had become a librarian and still lent people books.

"Do you return them?" Giovanni asked.

She pointed at him.

"You don’t get to keep bringing that up."

Patrick ran a small food-distribution business.

Alexander stared.

"You became a professional version of the person who gave everyone snacks."

Patrick considered it.

"Apparently."

Business cards appeared occasionally, but not as trophies.

More like promises.

Need an accountant?

Call me.

Need a pediatrician?

My sister’s one.

Looking for a caregiver for your parents?

I know an agency.

Someone needed a contractor.

Someone else had a cousin.

A former classmate who’d struggled professionally admitted she was looking for work, and within minutes three people had offered contacts without making her feel like she’d asked for charity.

Giovanni watched all of it quietly.

This was what he’d missed.

Not the grand milestones.

The ordinary continuation.

People growing older together even while living separate lives.

He’d disappeared from that progression the day movers parked outside his childhood home.

Tonight, for the first time, he felt as though he’d been stitched back into it.

Dominic tried.

To his credit, he didn’t try very hard.

Perhaps professional therapy had taught him something.

Perhaps losing money on his disastrous PR strategy had.

Or perhaps he’d finally realized that spectacular public scenes tended to leave him looking worse than the person he intended to embarrass.

He joined several conversations.

He laughed.

He asked people about work.

When Adrian mentioned being married for seven years, Dominic said, "Seven? You’re making the rest of us look bad."

The remark wasn’t terrible.

Unfortunately, the word married seemed to produce a collective instinct among several classmates.

Patrick suddenly remembered he wanted coffee.

Elena needed to greet Mrs. Ramos.

Samuel saw somebody across the room who absolutely required immediate legal advice.

Within seconds, Dominic was talking to only Adrian.

He noticed.

Of course he did.

His smile became a little tighter.

Later, he approached Alexander near the drinks table.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"Yes."

Dominic seemed genuinely surprised.

"I’m glad."

Alexander picked up a coffee.

Nothing alcoholic.

Giovanni would approve.

Dominic leaned one shoulder against the nearby table.

"I didn’t know whether you’d come."

"I almost didn’t."

"But you did."

"Yes."

A pause.

"Gio convinced you?"

Alexander looked at him.

Dominic corrected himself.

"Giovanni."

"No. I decided to come."

That answer mattered.

Dominic nodded slowly.

"I’m trying not to make tonight difficult."

Alexander’s expression softened slightly.

"Then don’t."

"I won’t."

That could’ve been the end.

Dominic, however, looked across the room at Giovanni.

"You two seem close again."

Alexander took a sip of coffee.

"We were friends."

"Were?"

"Are."

Dominic looked back at him.

For a second, something ugly threatened to surface.

Jealousy.

Regret.

Possession.

Whatever it was, Dominic swallowed it.

"Right."

Then he smiled.

"Enjoy the evening."

He walked away.

Alexander watched him go.

Progress, perhaps.

Not redemption.

But progress.

Beatrice eventually announced games.

The entire room protested.

She ignored everyone.

"We survived sixteen years of school activities. You can survive twenty minutes."

The first was musical chairs.

Participation began voluntarily.

Then Beatrice started calling names.

Patrick dragged in Giovanni.

Alexander joined only after Elena threatened to tell everyone about an incident involving a frog in ninth grade.

"What frog?"

Giovanni asked.

"Nothing."

"Interesting."

"Don’t."

The music started.

The first few rounds were chaos.

Claire lost because she spent too much time laughing.

Samuel attempted to argue that one chair had been improperly positioned.

"Lawyer," Patrick muttered.

Adrian nearly sat on Miguel.

Dominic joined midway after someone shouted his name.

For a while, everyone forgot they were adults with companies, children, mortgages, divorces, and reputations.

They were simply idiots circling chairs.

Alexander was eliminated when Patrick deliberately blocked him.

"You cheated."

"There are no rules against occupying space."

Giovanni lasted longer.

So did Dominic.

Eventually, the final round came down to Giovanni and Elena.

The music stopped.

Elena dove.

Giovanni simply stepped aside.

She landed triumphantly on the chair.

Everyone cheered.

Alexander stared at him.

"You let her win."

"I value my life."

Elena raised both hands.

"Correct decision."

Then came paper dancing.

Alexander refused.

Beatrice ignored him again.

Partners were drawn randomly.

Or allegedly randomly.

Alexander looked at the slip in his hand.

GIOVANNI

He slowly turned toward Beatrice.

She looked innocent.

"Random?"

"Completely."

"You’ve always been a bad liar."

"Go dance."

Giovanni was already laughing.

The game began with pairs standing on full sheets of newspaper while music played. Each time the music stopped, they folded the paper smaller.

At first, it was easy.

Then ridiculous.

Patrick and Claire were eliminated when Patrick stepped entirely off the paper.

Miguel attempted to balance on one foot while Beatrice clung to his shoulder.

Adrian and Elena lasted surprisingly long.

Dominic had partnered with Mara Velasco, who treated the game with enough competitive intensity to satisfy even him.

Alexander and Giovanni kept surviving.

The paper became half-sized.

Then quartered.

Alexander looked down.

"This is absurd."

"You agreed."

"I was coerced."

"Stand closer."

Alexander looked at him.

"That sounded threatening."

"Alex."

"Fine."

They shifted closer.

Music.

Stop.

Another fold.

Now there was barely room for two feet.

Several pairs were eliminated.

Dominic and Mara finally lost when Mara laughed so hard she stepped off.

That left Alexander and Giovanni against Adrian and Elena.

The newspaper folded again.

Elena took one look.

"No."

Adrian pointed at Giovanni.

"They’re going to cheat."

"How?"

"I don’t know yet."

The music stopped.

Giovanni looked at the tiny remaining square.

Then at Alexander.

"No."

Alex immediately understood.

"Gio."

"There’s no other way."

"We can lose."

"Absolutely not."

Alexander stared.

"Who became competitive?"

"Apparently you rubbed off on me."

Before Alex could protest, Giovanni bent and lifted him.

One arm beneath his knees.

The other around his back.

Alexander grabbed his shoulders on instinct.

The room exploded.

"CHEATING!"

"It’s allowed!" Beatrice shouted.

Giovanni stepped onto the remaining paper with one foot.

Perfectly balanced.

Alexander stared down at him.

"You are enjoying this far too much."

"Probably."

Adrian attempted the same maneuver with Elena.

He lasted approximately three seconds.

Then both toppled sideways onto a pile of chairs.

Beatrice shouted.

"WINNERS!"

The room erupted again.

Alexander was still in Giovanni’s arms.

He realized this around the same moment everyone else did.

Their eyes met.

Something shifted.

Briefly.

Not enough to name.

Then Alexander cleared his throat.

"You can put me down."

Giovanni did.

"Right."

Neither looked particularly embarrassed.

Which somehow made Patrick grin more.

Alexander pointed at him.

"Don’t."

"I didn’t say anything."

"Nobody has to say anything tonight."