Reunion

Her head slammed against a wood windowsill, jolting her awake. Groggy and rubbing the already-forming lump behind her temple, she realized with horror that her knit beanie had drifted back on her head. She snatched it down low over her eyes, praying no one saw her face.

Sitting up, she realized she was on an old train, in one of those ornate passenger cars. It rumbled through a stone tunnel, and she couldn’t see anyone in the dim car, an understanding that slaked the fear of being seen but heightened her anxiety – she had no idea how she got there or where she was headed. Her purse was nowhere to be seen and her pockets were empty. The train seemed to be going way too fast, and still gained speed. She listened for the sounds of anyone else, but couldn’t hear anything besides the out-of-control rattling of steel, the wheels threatening to jump the rails.

And then, the male voice right behind her - “Ashley.”

+++++

“Are you sure you’re okay going by yourself?” Jessica asked, concern drawing her face tight.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. He skipped the last two reunions, I doubt he’ll show his face at this one.”

“I’m so sorry to bail on you, Ash. I feel horrible. Especially since it’s taken you years to get the courage to go to one, and you just had the dream again. I just can’t miss this meeting, I-”

Ashley placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m fine, Jess. Promise.”

“It’s the others too, not just him. I wish I would have known you back then, I would have beaten the hell out of all of them.”

“From what I’ve seen in pictures, none of the worst ones have been coming to these things either. It’s okay. Now go, you’re going to be late!” Ashley stepped out of the passenger seat and took a deep breath as she looked out over the lush lawn of the park. It was a beautiful June day, hot and sunny, with only a mild breeze.

“Please call me if it goes south,” Jessica said as she put the Jeep in drive.

“Deal.” Ashley shut the door, flashed Jessica a reassuring smile through the window, and strode off to the cluster of red-roofed gazebos.

Kristi greeted her with a bear hug as she reached the edge of the throng. They had roomed together in college, and she was one of the few people from high school Ashley kept in contact with. She was also the only one Ashley was excited to see.

“I’m so glad you came!” Kristi beamed. “Everyone’s about to break into groups. Fill this out,” she said as she handed Ashley a card titled “The Post-High School Me” and a pen. “We’re going to do a guessing game with these. Oh, and the booze is over there.”

“Booze first,” Ashley replied. “You look like you need a drink, too!”

“I do! Let me take care of these guys that are walking up, and I’ll meet you over there.”

As Kristi turned away, Ashley reached into her purse, her fingers finding the orange pill bottle at the bottom. She twisted it until the alcohol warning stared up at her. With a slow sigh, she selected a bottle of water over the colorful array of drinks before her.

Wandering through the clumps of her former classmates felt like tiptoeing through a minefield. When she finally found a group of friendly faces showing each other pictures on their phones, she edged in on the circle.

“Ashley! How are you? What are you up to these days?” one of them exclaimed. Ashley couldn’t remember her name.

“I’m great, just working away, you?”

“Same, between that and the kids it’s busy! What do you do? I have three littles now, want to see?” Without waiting for an answer, she whipped out her phone and started scrolling through images. Ashley feigned interest while briefly explaining her job as a lab tech, knowing that the woman wasn’t listening to a word she said.

“What about you, do you have kids?”

Ashley’s lips pursed before she remembered to manage her face. “Nope, not yet,” she replied, adding a nervous smile.

“Are you married?”

“Nope again.” She forced a light laugh, and tucked a hand in her armpit as she brushed back a piece of dark hair with the other. “Living the single life.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. You’ll find someone eventually!” The woman nudged her in the ribs. “But that clock’s ticking, so don’t wait forever!” She winked and laughed.

Ashley zoned out, no longer bothering to pretend to be engaged in the conversations around her. Then she saw him.

That blonde hair with a light wave to it, bobbing above the heads in front of her, sent her stomach to her feet. Though it was a darker shade now, it still had the same cut as that night fifteen years ago. Hell, even if it had been shaved or cut into a mullet, Ashley would have recognized him anywhere.

“It’s been nice catching up, I need to go find… someone,” she muttered to no one in particular. None noticed her departure.

She spun on her heel and took off toward where Jess dropped her off. Jessica’s office was too far to walk to, but she could at least head that direction. She wouldn’t bother her friend just yet, but she sure as hell wasn’t staying at the reunion.

Ashley turned out of view from the park and found herself on a street lined with creepy Stepford-looking condos, with perfectly manicured yards and cute front porches stacked on top of each other. She was just about to text Jess when the male voice hollered her name from the corner.

“Ash! Wait up! Can I please talk to you?”

A paralyzing fear crept through all of her joints, and her feet stilled on the sidewalk. She cursed herself for her weakness, her inability to stand up for herself. Years of therapy and martial arts hadn’t even been able to teach her.

Chris took the pause as an invitation. He jogged up to her, and still had that smooth, loping gait she had been entranced by so many times on the football field. “I didn’t think you’d be here, I’m really happy you are.”

Ashley could do nothing but raise her eyebrows in skepticism, cast her gaze to the ground, and turn away.

“Please, can we talk?” He lightly touched her arm, and she recoiled. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t touch you. I really do want to apologize to you, Ash, and for everything I put you through.”

“Don’t call me that,” she squeaked.

“I’m sorry again; add that to the things I need to apologize for. Will you talk to me?”

She looked away again but didn’t move. He placed the knuckle of his index finger under her chin, gently forcing her to meet his eyes. She nodded slightly.

“I actually live right here, so this spot was really convenient for the reunion,” he said jovially, like he was talking to an old friend. “Would you want to come up? You don’t have to, I just figured it would be better than standing out here in the heat. It’s completely up to you, no pressure.”

“I don’t want to get into some long conversation. Just say what you need to.”

“I get it. And I don’t deserve any of your time. Are you sure you don’t want to go inside? I’m roasting out here.”

Ashley made a forced dramatic show of rolling her eyes. Alarm bells were ringing in her brain, but she gestured for him to go ahead, trying to pour irritation into the movement to mask the fear. He led her to the unit on the end, and as they climbed the stairs to the third floor, the nauseated feeling she had felt since she laid eyes on him worsened.

Chris went straight for the fridge and pulled out two beers, offering her one. She shook her head in disgust.

“Really, Chris? Considering what happened last time you offered me a drink?” She may not have remembered the event itself, but she remembered what led to it and the repercussions as if they had happened yesterday.

“You’re right, that was stupid. No beer.”

“Just say your piece, please.”

She went to the other side of the breakfast bar, putting the dull laminate counter between them. Chris leaned on the sink on the other side, and stared into it a moment before speaking. When he looked at her, he had tears in his eyes.

“Ashley, nothing I could ever say can take away what I did to you. I know that. But I want you to know that I’ve been wanting to do this for years.” He paused, gathering himself. “I am so sorry. That night, we were drunk, I was really drunk. I didn’t know how out of it you were, I really didn’t. If I realized that, I never would have touched you.”

“Bye, I’m not here to hear excuses.” She twisted in the direction of the door.

“Ash, please, I’m telling you the truth. Not a day goes by that I don’t feel awful about it. Look at me, still single at this age. I can’t bring myself to be with women, they all remind me of what I did to you.”

“You drugged me, Chris! And you really hurt me! Do you get that? And then for you to turn everyone against me? Did you know that it was Sarah that called the cops on you? How did you turn her around to testify against me, anyway? Never mind, don’t answer that. I don’t care.” Again, she spun for the door.

Chris moved fast and blocked her, throwing his hand up on the wall. “Yes, I am the asshole. It was so wrong. And yes, I should have known. I don’t know what came over me, but I did not drug you. Please believe me. I am begging you, Ashley. I know we both need to move past this. You deserve it. Look at what a wreck I am.” He gestured to the condo around him, which indeed was a bit of a dump given the exterior. “I’ve changed. I’ve never done anything like that since, and like I said, I haven’t been with anyone in fifteen years. I want to help you. You haunt me.”

Ashley said nothing as she stared in all the defiance she could muster at the crook of the elbow in front of her.

“It was Johnny,” he said finally.

“What?”

“Johnny drugged your drink.”

“I’m just supposed to believe that? After all these years, you’re going to blame your best friend? Really Chris, even for you, that’s low.”

“It’s the truth. He wanted you. I took you upstairs to protect you, and you started kissing me, and I just got lost in it.”

After that night, Ashley had been told so many times that she was the problem. The slut, the provoker. And that since her boyfriend wasn’t at the party, she wanted to throw the blame for her indiscretions on someone else. Maybe it was true.

She sank into the couch behind her. Knowing better than to join her, Chris took up a barstool. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I am so sorry.”

She looked up to assess the regret etched on his face. “I think I’ll take that beer, now,” she muttered.

“Of course.” He hopped up and had one in her hand in a matter of seconds. She again contemplated the anxiety pills in her purse, but pushed the thought aside and popped the top.

“Did you really not know how badly off I was?” Her head spun. The courts had ruled there wasn’t enough evidence to proceed with any sort of charges against him, and she had detested the legal system ever since. Maybe they had been right all along.

He shook his head. “No. I blacked out after. I don’t remember much.”

Ashley sat in stillness. After many awkward minutes of silence, Chris broke it. “This might be crazy, but do you want dinner? I’m a sous chef now, and not a shabby one in my opinion. I just got steaks and was going to do that tonight, if you’re interested.”

She gave him a befuddled stare while she processed the thought. Someone that she had spent years believing assaulted her was offering her dinner. Against her better judgement, she nodded nervously. He gave a sad half-smile and went back into the kitchen.

“Do you talk to Johnny anymore?” she asked.

“Hell no. I cut that asshole out after that night. He knew what he did, and he knew I knew.”

“So why keep that a secret?”

“I don’t know, he was my best friend. And everyone saw you and I go upstairs together. It didn’t seem very believable on my side of things.”

Ashley moved to a barstool and watched him work. He had a bunch of vegetables on a cutting board, and was dicing through them with finesse.

“I’ve spent years in therapy, Chris. Years. I still can’t function without meds. I have been afraid of seeing you wherever I go, even when I left town. You did major damage, and you should have known that at the time. And why would I have been enjoying anything in a bathroom?”

“Like I said, I was really drunk. I tried to call you about a year later, but your number had changed.”

“You’d change yours too if it was filled with hate calls and death threats from people you thought were your friends.”

His face fell further. “True.”

They talked in circles as he prepared dinner, rehashing the same things over and over. Ashley couldn’t get her head around it, but by her fourth beer she had gotten more comfortable with talking about what happened. Maybe she remembered things incorrectly after all, tainted by the idea that it was all his fault. And Chris was right, he wasn’t a shabby chef; the steak was delicious, as were the side veggies.

He sat on the opposite side of the couch from her after they finished their meal. “I want you to heal, Ash. And as selfish as it is, I want you to know the truth. I’m really glad you came here.” He slid over and placed a hand on her thigh.

She stared down at it, head swimming with the drinks. “Are you… are you trying to…?”

He yanked back and put both hands up in the air. “No, I would never.”

“I have to go to the bathroom, excuse me for a sec.”

“Absolutely, it’s the door straight down at the end of the hall.”

It dawned on Ashley that she never texted Jess, so she picked up her purse to bring with her. Feeling the need to make an excuse for it, she said awkwardly “You know… woman stuff.”

He smiled and motioned down the hall.

The door was warped and wouldn’t shut properly. She drove her shoulder into the flimsy thing, trying to smash it into the frame.

“Are you okay down there?” Chris called.

“Yeah, just having a bit of trouble with the door.”

“It sticks and doesn’t close right, sorry. I won’t come peek, I promise.”

Ashley sat on the lid of the toilet and started digging through her purse for her phone, but it wasn’t anywhere in the bag. She was positive she had left it in there; her outfit didn’t have pockets and she hadn’t taken it out since coming into the condo.

Panic set in. There was only a small transom window in the bathroom, one she could never hope to squeeze herself through. She started rifling through the three drawers in search of something that could be used for a weapon, if need be. Each was packed full of all kinds of toiletries; combs, travel-sized mouthwashes and shampoos, creams. In the bottom drawer, she discovered what gave her chills; a pink makeup bag. In it was an eyelash curler, eyeliner, mascara, bronzer, and some brushes. Beneath that bag, there were more bags and loose makeup items.

His lie echoed in her skull: “I can’t bring myself to be with women, they all remind me of what I did to you.”

She ripped open the cabinet doors, praying there was something bigger. Heavier. Sharper. Six different blow dryers, all in various feminine colors, rested in a heap. She was horrified to see that the brushes scattered around them had long hairs of her color in them, much longer and darker than Chris’s.

Her eyes landed on a black old-school style hair dryer that felt like it weighed ten pounds, but there was nothing sharp to be found. Then the deep part of her brain pulled out something from a movie she had seen somewhere; use the toilet tank lid. She pulled it up with a loud porcelain clank.

“Ashley? Are you alright?” He voice came from right outside the door, though she hadn’t heard him approach. What had he heard?

“Um yeah, good, thanks, just finishing up.”

“Really?” The lilt was gone from his voice. “Because it sounded like you were ransacking my bathroom.”

The door flew open, nearly hitting Ashley in the face. Chris stood in the entry with his shoulders squared and a chef's knife in his hand. He took notice of the tank lid in her hands, then glanced at the open drawers full of the belongings of other women. He smiled.

“None of them got the drugs like you did. And this time, you’re not getting drugs either, though I promise you’re not going to have any issues with the aftermath.”

The beast inside her that had been sleeping her whole life finally awakened. Years of self-defense training she thought were buried kicked in, and she feinted left as he slashed right while driving the porcelain piece into the center of his face. His guttural howl made her shudder, and she launched herself over him into the hallway. With dismay, she saw a keyed lock securing the front door. The sliding door leading onto the balcony was her best shot. As she turned, he slammed into her from behind, knocking her to the floor. The knife clattered to the hardwood, and he seized her by the neck.

“You whet my appetite for this, Ashley,” he snarled, spit flying from between his gritted teeth. “I’ve waited fifteen years to finish with you!”

She interlaced her fingers and thrusted her locked hands upward, breaking his grip on her throat. As he tried to catch his balance, she drove her knee into his sternum and rolled, leapt to her feet and sprinted for the slider. Just as her foot struck the decking outside, a piercing pain ripped through her side. Gasping, she looked down to see his hand at the hilt of the knife, its blade hidden inside her.

She reached for him, stumbling backwards into the iron rail. She couldn’t breathe, but forced her arms to drag him to her. She held him close and heaved both of them over the burning metal, and together they fell three stories to the concrete.

+++++

On the sidewalk below the balcony, first responders found their bodies; his beneath hers and twisted in agony, and hers with a long knife buried between her ribs and a smile on her face.