Mike Schmidt passed by the bar in his car, realizing he'd have to park across the street. He parked his car and got out, looking in disbelief at the bar where the 20-year high school reunion of the Class of '83 would be, with it's dirty, stained, white brick walls,
"Really, Sorrel, you couldn't afford a nicer place?" he sighed to himself. A few days earlier, he was emailed a message from Katie Sorrel, a fellow classmate at his school, who practically begged Mike to come to at least one reunion. Mike couldn't resist, he still remembered how Sorrel was always one to sway others into agreeing with her so she could get what she wanted. Sorrel was lucky to reach Mike when he had settled into his apartment back in his birth state; if she emailed him two months earlier, Mike would've been living all the way on the west coast.
Besides, he could have the opportunity to speak with an old friend for the first time in years. Mike took his time walking towards the bar, taking in the humid summer night air. He looked around at the streets surrounding him; Mike and his family never went into this side of town much when they lived in this state, he even had to ask for directions since it'd been so long since he last stepped foot on these streets. Still, foggy but good memories were spent here.
As Mike opened the door, the dull droning of his former classmates flooded his ears, It's just for one night, Mike, get it over with... he took a deep breath and stepped inside. As expected, aside from some stares and neutral sounding "hey's," Mike didn't receive any immediate affectionate greetings from his former classmates, per usual Bentley Bulldog courtesy. Mike hesitantly walked further away from the door, eyeing the bar.
A pleasant voice called out his name, and Mike turned to look at the approaching woman who had a wide grin on her face, "Katie?" Mike responded, "You've barely changed." Sorrel laughed, and the two shook hands. Her hair still bright orange and her eyes shining, it was like Sorrel never lost all of that youthful energy she was (in)famous for during their high school years,
"Oh, I wasn't sure you'd come!" she said. Mike chuckled softly,
"Well, I just couldn't resist your charm."
"You look so stiff," Sorrel remarked, her tongue in her cheek, "I mean, you've always been like that. I don't mean to offend you..."
"Um, no, you're right."
"Anyway," Sorrel clasped her hands together, "Relax! We're all here to have a good time!" Mike gave her a small smile. The two briefly chatted about what they each did after high school and briefly touched on their personal lives. They eventually drifted away from each other, and Mike headed towards the bar counter. Mike ordered a beer, and as he sipped on it, he silently began observing the numerous amount of former students around him, their monotonous droning making it almost impossible for Mike to hear his own thoughts.
Listening into their conversations, it was apparent to Mike that a good chunk of the students went into the auto industry after college, including himself for a good many years. Mike stared at the faces of some individual former students he recognized, Patty McConnor, everyone knows you're a deadbeat! Harold Walsh has been married how many times? Hm, Scott Cawthon seems to be doing well... It wasn't a large class that graduated in '83, but, Mike was surprised at how many students he still remembered, and never realized were still locked away in his subconscious, just waiting to jump out and remind him of his past.
After a while, Katie Sorrel came over and sat in the empty barstool next to Mike, with her brows furrowed, she looked concerned,
"Mike, haven't you picked up some more social skills over the last twenty years?" she laid a hand on his shoulder, Mike brushed it off,
"I guess you could say I didn't," he admitted through gritted teeth. There was some awkward silence between the two of them, and then, Sorrel inquired,
"Are you looking for someone in particular?" Mike sat up, interested.
"Yes I am," he replied, "I haven't seen him yet, um, did you send an email to Jeremy Fitzgerald?" Sorrel's eyes widened, her jaw dropping. Sorrel leaned back to the point where she accidentally fell off of the stool; she got back up, and after stuttering incoherently for a few seconds, she managed to spit out,
"My God, Mike, haven't you heard?" she sighed, "It was all over the news!" Mike almost regretted asking the question; still, he persisted,
"Katie, what happened to Jeremy? I really need to know!" Sorrel shook her head, slapping a hand on her mouth,
"I don't remember all the details, it was so long ago," Sorrel groaned, "He still might be living with his parents, I don't-"
"What happened to him?!"
"He was working in some children's restaurant in '87," Sorrel explained, "Uh, there was some kind of accident. Whatever happened, Jeremy ended up losing his frontal lobe..." Mike was beginning to feel sick to his stomach, "I'm so sorry," Sorrel apologized, "I thought you knew, everybody here knows what happened to him..."
