The smile didn't quite reach her heavily made up eyes. "Of course I do. But, nobody else seems to. Actually, it's okay. I looked way different back in high school. Ten years can really change a person."
"Except for me," I said. "Except for a couple of things in my life I feel like I haven't changed a bit."
"And that's a good thing?"
"Depends what you want out of life. I kind of like having ties to who I was back in the day. Keeps me grounded."
And happy. And vaguely normal.
She nodded. "I'm Stacy. Stacy McGraw. Remember me now?"
I nodded. But I didn't. Not even slightly. "Of course. Nice catching up, Stacy. I'm going to head back to the dance now."
She blinked slowly. "Don't you want to wash your hands first?"
I hesitated, glancing at the bank of mirrors above the sinks. "Of course I do. But I have this thing about public washrooms. Dirty Sinkaphobia, I think it's called. My boyfriend has a little bottle of hand sanitizer on him. He's a total germ phobic."
"Your boyfriend, Thierry," she said.
"That's the one."
"He's very handsome."
"Thank you. I totally agree."
"What is he, six or seven hundred years old?" Her gaze was steady with mine.
My throat felt tight. "He just turned thirty-six. He's an Aquarius."
Her cool smile widened. "Of course he is."
I frowned at her. "You know, I'm going to have to come clean here. I don't actually remember you at all from high school. Are you sure we were in the same year?"
She nodded. "Just picture me a hundred pounds heavier. Glasses. Brown hair."
Dammit. I still couldn't remember her. Not for the life of me. What she'd said about Thierry had made me very wary. What was her deal?
Actually, forget it. I didn't really want to know.
"I'm going back to the reunion," I moved toward the door.
She stepped in front of me. "Not quite yet, Sarah."
"What do you want?"
"Just to talk."
"About what?"
She took another step closer to me. "I know you're a vampire."
My mouth felt dry. "Vampires don't exist."
Her dark red lips curled up. "Does that line work for you often? Or do most people not even clue in to what you really are? Well, I guess I'm a little different than them."
I could smell her perfume. She'd really loaded on the Obsession by Calvin Klein. "What do you want, Stacy?"
Her smile held. "I told you. I just want to talk."
My eyes narrowed. "Then talk. And, not to sound rude, but let's make it quick."
"Why? In a hurry to get somewhere?"
"It won't be long before somebody wants to come in here, you know. They might break up this friendly little convo."
"Oh, it will be a while. Trust me, Sarah. Right now and until I decide, nobody in the building will need to use the washroom. It's just the two of us."
I frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"Just a little magic. A little isolation spell was all it took."
"Magic?"
She nodded. "Same magic I wish I'd had back in high school when I was a loser. When I was picked on."
Screw this. I went ahead and washed my hands. Stacy didn't even flinch when my reflection didn't show up in the mirrors. "Everyone was a loser in high school," I said.
"Everyone was picked on at one time or another. I know I was."
She leaned leisurely against the green-tiled wall, glancing at the empty mirror and then at me. "Is that what you remember?"
I thought about it. Yeah, high school had its good points, but there were plenty of bad points, too. That's how high school was for everyone. That's why it was a good thing it only lasted four years.
"I remember trying out for the cheerleading squad," Stacy went on. "But I was laughed out of the room. There was nothing wrong with my performance, I was just too fat."
I'd been on the cheerleading squad and remembered vividly two heavier girls were on it with me. So she was wrong. It would have had very little to do with her weight and everything to do with her performance, attitude, and personality—and if today was any indication, I think I saw why she had failed to make the squad.
"I'm sorry you had a bad experience," I said.
"A bad experience?" Something sparked in her eyes. "A bad experience? Oh, it was way more than that, Sarah."
I didn't know why I felt so nervous. The girl was shorter and skinnier than me, if you didn't count the huge knockers. By how tight that dress was I could tell she wasn't carrying any concealed weapons. So what if she knew I was a vampire? As if anyone would believe her if she decided to literally share with the class.
"I think you need to get out of my way now," I said evenly. "I've had enough."
She eyed me with mild amusement but said nothing. I took that to mean the conversation was over. I walked past her to the door and grabbed the handle. It was locked. I looked over my shoulder at her.