The reunion had slowed down to a comfortable hum, with small groups of former classmates mingling around the tables or gathered near the bar, exchanging stories from their shared youth. Annie and Calix found themselves in a quieter corner of the room, sitting at one of the last remaining tables that hadn't been claimed by a crowd. The initial awkwardness of the evening had given way to something lighter, but an undercurrent of nervous energy still lingered between them.
Annie traced her finger along the rim of her glass, glancing around the room. "It's funny, isn't it? Seeing everyone again after all these years."
Calix chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a crooked smile. "Yeah, funny in a 'wow, we all got old' kind of way."
Annie laughed, shaking her head. "I mean, I'm not sure I'd say old. More like... seasoned."
"Right, because that sounds so much better," Calix teased, grinning. "Next, you're going to say we're all 'well-aged,' like a fine wine."
"Hey, wine gets better with age. Why can't we?" Annie shot back, raising an eyebrow.
"Touché," Calix said, lifting his glass as if to toast her point. "Here's to aging gracefully... or at least pretending we are."
They clinked glasses, both laughing, but Annie couldn't help the slight flutter in her stomach. It wasn't just the alcohol or the nostalgia in the air—it was being here with him. Calix had always had a way of making her laugh, even when she didn't expect it. But there was something different now, a layer beneath the banter that felt new, uncharted.
As the laughter faded, Annie's thoughts drifted back to their high school days. She glanced at Calix, who was sipping his drink, seemingly lost in his own memories. It was strange how easily they had fallen back into this dynamic, like no time had passed at all. Yet the years apart had changed them, too.
"You ever wonder what the younger versions of us would think if they could see us now?" Annie asked, her voice soft.
Calix raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the question. "I think my younger self would be very disappointed that I didn't become a rock star."
Annie snorted. "Oh, right. Your band. What were you guys called again? The... oh! The Electric Outlaws!"
Calix groaned, covering his face with his hand. "I was hoping you'd forgotten about that."
"Are you kidding? How could I forget? You guys played at the talent show junior year, and I think the entire auditorium was in shock." She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "I mean, I have to admit, you had some stage presence. But the lyrics, Calix... what were those?"
Calix let out a long-suffering sigh. "Look, we were sixteen. We thought angst and random metaphors about fire and destruction were the height of poetry."
Annie laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink. "I think the best part was the chorus—what was it? 'Burning like the sun, but colder than the night?'"
"Yeah, something like that," Calix said, wincing at the memory. "We were deep, okay?"
"Sure," Annie teased, wiping tears from her eyes. "Deep like a puddle."
Calix grinned, shaking his head. "Hey, at least we didn't take ourselves too seriously. And we did get a standing ovation—though I think most of it was out of sheer relief that we finished the song."
Annie's laughter continued, and for a moment, the years melted away, leaving only the lighthearted joy of reminiscing about their younger, more carefree selves. But as the laughter faded, that nervous flutter in her chest returned, and she wondered if Calix felt it too.
"You know," Calix said after a beat, his tone shifting slightly, "I always looked up to you back then."
Annie blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in the conversation. "What? You did?"
"Yeah." Calix leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You were always so put together, so focused. It was like you had this clear vision of where you wanted to go, and I was just... drifting."
Annie frowned slightly. "I don't know if I'd say I had a clear vision. I was just trying to get through it all without losing my mind."
"Still, you had this... calm about you," Calix continued, his gaze meeting hers. "You made it look easy. Meanwhile, I was barely holding on. I didn't know what I wanted, and I definitely didn't know how to get there."
Annie felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. She had never realized Calix saw her that way. Back in high school, she had been so focused on her grades and future plans that she hadn't really thought about how others perceived her.
"I don't think I was as calm as you remember," she admitted with a small smile. "But I guess I hid it well."
"You always did." Calix's smile softened, and for a moment, the weight of the years that had passed settled between them.
There was a long pause, the kind that felt both comfortable and filled with the unspoken. Annie felt her heart race, unsure of what to say next. The nostalgia had pulled them back into their shared past, but there was something new here—something unfamiliar and exciting, like standing at the edge of a cliff, unsure whether to jump.
"So..." Calix said, breaking the silence with a mischievous glint in his eye. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but what about you? Any embarrassing high school memories you'd like to revisit?"
Annie groaned, shaking her head. "Oh, plenty. But I'm not sure I'm ready to open that can of worms."
"Oh, come on," Calix coaxed. "I shared mine. Fair's fair."
Annie bit her lip, thinking back to the most cringeworthy moments of her teenage years. "Okay, fine. But only because you asked."
Calix leaned in, eager. "This is going to be good, I can tell."
Annie sighed dramatically. "Alright, remember sophomore year when we had to do those group projects in history class?"
Calix nodded. "Yeah, vaguely. What about it?"
"Well, I got paired with Ryan Wilkins—the guy I had the biggest crush on at the time," she said, already feeling her cheeks flush at the memory. "And I was so nervous during our first meeting that I knocked over my backpack and all my notebooks went flying. And then—just as I was trying to pick everything up—I tripped over my own feet and landed face-first in his lap."
Calix's eyes widened, and then he burst out laughing. "Oh my God, Annie! That's amazing!"
Annie groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "It was the most humiliating moment of my life. I wanted to disappear right then and there."
Calix was still laughing, clutching his side. "I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you, but—wow. That's priceless."
"Yeah, well, I'm glad someone finds it funny," Annie muttered, though a smile tugged at her lips. Despite the embarrassment, it felt good to share the story, to laugh about it with someone who didn't judge her for it.
"You know what?" Calix said, his laughter dying down to a gentle chuckle. "I think that's what I like about you. You always found a way to keep going, no matter what. Even when things got messy or awkward."
Annie met his gaze, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. For all the teasing and banter, there was something deeper there—something that made her heart skip a beat.
"Thanks," she said softly. "I guess I've had a lot of practice."
They exchanged a look—one filled with nostalgia, nervous laughter, and something unspoken that lingered in the air between them. And as they sat there, in the soft glow of the reunion lights, Annie realized that maybe this nervous energy wasn't something to shy away from. Maybe it was just the beginning of something new.