“Honey?” My dad asks me, tugging at my arm. Probably hearing my loud sigh as I watch Trent in motion.
“We can go,” he says louder. Firmer, taking me by the wrist and tugging to leave by the other door.
“I’m sure that’s all the excitement there’ll be, dad,” I tell him, collecting myself and letting him know I’m fine.
“I went to college too dad, remember? And I’ve had more than one drunk guy grab my ass,” I lie.
Hearing the word college from my own mouth always leaves a bad taste.
I almost wish it was guys wanting to grab my ass all the time that was the problem.
Almost.
Most days it was only passing comments about the size of it though. And that was on a good day.
“We just got here,” I remind my dad, trying to keep us here. Already searching the doorway for Trent’s return.
My dad shifts nervously, fidgeting on his feet. The barman distracts us both, asking what we want to drink and I order two club sodas for us.
Dad groans quietly as I hand him his drink, telling him it might help to settle his stomach a little.
“Do we have to stay? I mean really,” he mumbles to himself. But with no sign of Trent, after a few minutes, he seems to have relaxed enough to agree to stay.
I wonder why Trent would call me over, rescue me from some random drunk, and then vanish. It doesn’t make sense but begs the question, maybe he was signaling someone else?
I mean, get real Brooke. Would Trent Latham really be calling you over to him after finding out you’re the only daughter of his ex-best friend?
No. I didn’t think so.
Just as my dad’s spirits seem to have lifted, I feel my own sinking to new pits of despair.
I feel stupid.
Overdressed and overweight in what’s essentially a cocktail dress that I can already feel starting to pinch in places I don’t even wanna think about.
Plus, if this is a sit down dinner thing?
I never even tried sitting down in this dress.
I’ve spent half the time here so far sucking my gut in so I don’t tear it at the seams.
Glancing around I can see a room full of people old enough to be my parents or grandparents. All talking about the past as if it’s something great or the worst thing that ever happened to them.
I want Trent back. I want him holding my hand, telling me I look nice or something.
Telling me anything.
But he’s gone and the more seconds that tick by, the easier it is to convince myself I probably misread the whole situation.
He was probably just being nice to the only young adult in the room.
He was probably—
Oh. My. God.
I suddenly do see Trent coming back in through the main doorway, and he does seem to be looking around, but it’s who he has on his arm that proves my whole point.
It looks like the most attractive man in the building stepped out to go down to the local slut store to get himself a life-sized version of the Malibu-Barbie-ruins-everything-for-Brooke doll.
I knew it was too good to be true.
The woman clinging to him must be a size zero and looks like she needs help to hold herself up on those six inch heels too.
Not sure which looks heavier on her either, her obviously fake chest or the huge shock of peroxide blond on her head.
Almost every man in her vicinity turns to look at her as she passes.
She’s older than me, how much I’m not sure with all that makeup.
She’s what every guy wants. Nobody wants a short thick girl with a chest as big as her ass.
I turn to tell my dad maybe we should leave after all, but he’s got someone leaning in close to talk to him as well.
From what I can overhear, she’s telling him she used to have a crush on him, which I guess is reunion speak for ‘do you wanna ask me out?’
My dad’s had about the same romantic action as I have in the past twenty years, as far as I know so I’m not gonna be the one to get between him and whatever chance he might have there.
He looks pretty interested and casting a glance back at Trent I can see he looks like he has his hands full too, so it’s time for this ugly duckling to exit stage left.
My dad has the car keys, but I tell myself I’ll text him to let him know I’ve left rather than interrupt his big chance.
Making my way out, I fight the urge to look out for Trent again, but I can’t help it.
I scan the room one more time, but I don’t see him or Reunion Dinner Barbie.
Maybe they deserve each other.
I decide I can get an Uber home, or maybe I’ll just walk for a while.