Page 16 of The Reunion

By those measures, I am smashing this whole reunion thing.

I busy myself with the small crowd that are arranging the pizza boxes on the trestle tables, if only for the excuse of a breather between small talk and mingling. Even if there are some people here I’m enjoying catching up with, there are so many I barely spoke to when we were spending five days a week stuck in the same building – the same classrooms – and who I’m struggling to really care about now. It feels – forced. Fake.

Everybody else is either doing a much better job of pretending than I am, or else I’ve reverted into my judgemental seventeen-year-old self, assuming the worst of them. But when people like Josh or Elise or Tommy ask what I’m up to these days, when they barely bothered with me back in school in the first place, it’s hard to believe they’re genuinely interested in the answer.

It’s entirely possible that I’m jaded by the pity parade everybody seems to be throwing me, but still.

Instead of returning to the group I just excused myself from – an odd mix of people I wouldn’t have seen together outside enforced group projects – I seek out Ashleigh. I spot the back of her head and see her gesturing animatedly with one hand. Maybe I can hide in her shadow for a little while.

Funny, how I used to do that at school. We were both nerdy and conscientious, but Ashleigh never had that introverted streak I did. She was happy to stand up in front of a year-wide assembly and corral people into a fundraiser or project, and never took shit off anybody. It was hard to pay attention to me when Ashleigh was so much more noticeable, but I was always relieved when my overachievements went largely ignored by everybody else; it felt like one less thing to be bullied or teased about. She offered me a bit of breathing space in which I didn’t feel forced to defend myself.

And I know, logically, that it was a case of ‘wrong time, wrong place’. That, for the most part, my classmates were ‘not my sort of people’ – and I wasn’t theirs either. I was a geek deemed just likeable enough to be included in things like orchestra trips or Shaun’s house parties, but my interests were things that my peers found boring or stupid. Which was alright, because my interests were mine, and I didn’t want anyone else to join in anyway.

I’m not quite as shy and nervous as I used to be.

Except, of course, for the indisputable fact that I apparently am, at least for the purpose of tonight. And rather than face another round of people I barely remember telling me what a shame it is that I had to quit uni and then asking why I never went back after Margot was born, or having them ask what I’m up to these days with that gleam of expectation in their eyes that dies away so quickly when they learn the truth, I would much rather lurk near Ashleigh and defer to her achievements instead.

It’s … easier. Safer.

Any excuse to avoid thinking about the person they all expected me to become, the dreams and ambitions I used to have for myself so long ago that I’m struggling to remember the me who first conceived of them.

I grab two plates and load each with a few slices of pizza before the hordes descend, then pick my way across the room. I slip into the group at Ashleigh’s side and hand her one of the plates. She tosses me a grateful smile, but is mid-flow, telling people about the first time a drug she worked on was approved and made readily available to hospitals and patients, so I fall into the lull of nodding in all the right places along with everybody else.

Bryony is with her, and snatches a slice off the plate as if the pair of them have always been so close. ‘Ooh, thanks Hayden! You’re a star.’ Ashleigh doesn’t acknowledge her either, too into her storytelling, and I wonder if it’s bothering her that Bryony seems to have attached herself at her side tonight. I half expect it to be part of some childish prank – like a full Carrie moment is waiting just around the corner, except maybe with a bucket of glitter instead of pig’s blood, knowing Bryony. But right now, she’s all smiles and bubbly personality, so maybe I’m being too harsh. Maybe Ashleigh’s just the shiny new thing, or, an even wilder concept, Bryony is genuinely interested in reconnecting. If Ash and I weren’t good friends these days, I probably wouldn’t care either way. I wonder if she cares.

‘It’s just so rewarding,’ she says now, raising her voice to half a shout, ‘to know that what I’m doing is making a real difference to people’s lives. Saving them, even.’

My brow furrows as I give her a quizzical look. I know Ash is proud of the work she does and the moral fibre of it really grounds her, but … she’s not the type to boast about it, make it seem so performative.

Before I can ask, though, I hear a raised voice a short distance behind us, and Ryan Lawal is saying, ‘Obviously it was a huge compliment for the PM to call me in for the initiative when I was still relatively new to the world of politics, but that just goes to show, doesn’t it? Massively successful launch, and I visited several schools personally to see just what a positive impact it had on the kids’ lives.’

Ah.

That explains it.

I look over at him, but Ryan determinedly has his back to us. Not to us – to Ashleigh. There’s a stretch of space between the two of them, a void that everybody seems to be skirting around rather than risk getting sucked into it. His posture is infused with that easy, natural confidence he’s always possessed and Ashleigh makes no move to suggest she cares if he overheard her, or that she heard him – but that tether between the two of them is almost tangible.

I roll my eyes and smirk down at my plate.

‘I just think,’ Ashleigh says then, unprompted, ‘that the government funding into this sort of research – for degenerative diseases that affect such large numbers of the population – is sadly lacking.’

‘Well,’ says a guy I vaguely recognise from A-level maths, ‘the state of the NHS these days …’

And a woman who I think is someone’s partner because I definitely don’t recognise her, takes the position of devil’s advocate to say, ‘I totally agree. But I can understand why developing new medicines has to take a back seat to, say, funding nurses’ salaries.’

‘Mm, it’s very sad when people get such tunnel vision about things and can’t appreciate the big picture,’ Ryan is saying to his own group, though his voice carries as if it’s part of our conversation too. ‘A real shame. Runs the risk of being quite selfish, though I’m sure that’s not really the intention.’

Ashleigh bristles, lips pursing into a small, tight pucker for a brief moment, the only sign that she was paying attention to him.

She shoves a slice of pizza into her mouth and chews violently. This time, she casts me a look that lets me know she’s the one who needs saving.

So I tell the group, ‘Er, the pizza’s here, if you wanted any.’

Ashleigh sighs, short and sharp, and barely audible.

But, pathetic as my attempt to steal the spotlight is, it works enough that the guy from maths (Paul? No, that can’t be right, there were no Pauls in our year) says, ‘Haven’t seen you yet tonight, Hayden! How’s things, mate? What’re you up to these days, anything exciting?’

Bryony reaches her arm across Ashleigh’s front and lays her hand lightly on my sleeve. Her nails are long and glitter bright pink. ‘Only the most exciting adventure! You’re a stay-at-home dad for the most part now, aren’t you, Hayden? Now I bet that’s rewarding.’

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