The Class Reunion

By Gary Anderson

Former classmates David Clark and Robyn Chapman are on a dangerous collision course. Once their paths cross, their lives will never be the same. Their chance meeting will not only change their lives forever but will create deadly, tragic consequences. Little did they know, their lives are heading for disaster. For the small town of Granada, Colorado, there is excitement in the air; the atmosphere is abuzz with anticipation. The twenty-year High School reunion for John Hancock High School has been planned for this summer. The town has not had a high school reunion in a long time so this one will be special. Former classmates, retired teachers, coaches and school officials will be congregating for one special night of celebration. Summer is the time of year that most high schools around the country hold their reunions. It's a time for fun, frivolousness, and merriment. The John Hancock High School reunion will be no different. For many small towns like Granada, this is the biggest event of the year. Graduates will be coming home after long absences, old friendships will be reignited, new relationships will be formed and maybe there will be a chance of a new romance or two. These reunions can be thrilling, exhilarating, fun, and joyous occasions where classmates converge to tell stories, catch up, and gossip about former schoolmates. Sure, there is always a lot of bragging and 4 exaggeration going on but, overall, it is a great time. Perhaps, something stimulating and exciting will happen; maybe something unpredictable will materialize. The expectations are high. Participants attend these events for a variety of reasons. Some are curious, others want to show off, but most just want to see their old classmates again and relive old times. For former classmates, David Clark and Robyn Chapman, they will be attending for vastly different reasons; their motives are as different as night and day. Unbeknownst to them, they will be entering dangerous and deadly territory. An innocent relationship that begins slowly will evolve into a torrid romance and will alter their lives forever. There will be no going back and their lives will never be the same. David has absolutely no interest in attending the event; he hated every minute of high school and was ecstatic the day that he graduated and vowed to never come back. There is no interest to see any of his former classmates much less put up with their lies and bragging. However, pressure from his best friend changes his mind and he reluctantly agrees to attend. Robyn, on the other hand, is excited to be going to the event and is looking forward to it. She has just moved back into town after years of being away and is anxious to meet new acquaintances. Since her return, she has not met a great deal of people or made many friends; she is lonely and anxious to meet new ones. Unfortunately, their first meeting is anything but amicable. Despite the shaky start, their relationship develops into a fickle romance that soon becomes steamy and torrid. Both Robyn and David have hidden dark secrets from their past that causes their connection to become toxic and dangerous. Their relationship will be severely tested. It will develop into a life - or - death drama with catastrophic results. Someone is going to die

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gary Anderson
• Release date: Apr 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201793517

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Set up

October 2021

Walking across the large asphalt parking lot into Bob’s Bar, I can feel the sun beating down on my back. Even with Colorado’s quirky climate, 70 plus degrees in mid - October is rare. I’m sweaty as I reach the front door and my feet are burning from the hot tar. Wearing a T shirt, shorts and flip flops, I don’t exactly fit into the dress code at Bob’s. I don’t care. Finally, I reach the gigantic, wood and metal front door and pull it open. Grabbing the iron handle, the door is heavy and takes some effort to open it. Darkness from inside engulfs me as I walk in. My eyes take a while to adjust to the blackness and I need to stand for a few moments to get my bearings. The only illumination is provided by a few neon beer signs hanging on the wall and a couple of pool table lights.

I’m dry, I need an ice cold beer.

Bob’s bar is a landmark in Castle Rock, Colorado. It is tucked away off on a side street away from the main part of the city. The building itself, is probably over a hundred years old, perhaps starting out as a house. In 1948 it was turned into a bar/restaurant with the emphasis being on bar. The furniture looks like it has been there since the first day that it opened. There is nothing new or fancy about this establishment nor is it particularly clean but it is simply a good neighborhood bar. The atmosphere is friendly and most of the patrons are locals who know one another. One group of regulars has gone so far as to mark a center table as reserved for just them. Metal name tags were applied on the back of each chair to designate their individual spot. This is their table and no one had better sit there.

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In one corner of the bar is an old potbellied stove that is never used and on the opposite side is an ancient jukebox. Most of the time the jukebox is blasting out country songs, most of which I have never heard before. The old wooden floor creaks when it is walked upon but the center piece of the tavern is the long, old

magnificent bar. It almost reaches from one side of the bar to the other. Bar stools are set up in front of it and, most times, they are full without an empty seat. Constructed out of hard wood, probably mahogany, with intricate detailing, it is really glorious. It, too, may be as old as the building.

My eyes are still trying to adjust to the dimness but I continue on anyway, feeling my way through the darkness. Navigating slowly around the old, oak tables, I finally make it to the bar. There is an impressive array of beer tap handles in the center of the bar promoting many different types of beers. I slowly walk along the long-rounded bar to find a seat. The bar is shaped in a half circle with wood trim intricately carved into the side. A soft leather pad rests on the outside of the bar.  Most of the bar stools are occupied with people talking back and forth to one another. The noise level is high; it is like a social club with certain groups congregating together. I’m an outsider here and nobody gives me a second look. I choose a stool at the end of the bar next to a wall trying to get as far away from the other customers as possible, not wanting to be noticed. I put my head down trying to avoid any eye contact.

The crowd around me is laughing, drinking and having a great time. They are loud and boisterous. I can’t remember having that much fun in a long time. The last few years for me have been difficult.

The bartender comes over, wipes the area in front of me with a dirty wet rag, and throws a coaster down. I look up.

Hey John, still hanging out here.

Yep, Dave, good to see you. It’s been a long time, are you doing, ok?

Yeah, I guess.

Sorry to hear about your wife, that’s a shame. She was a good woman.

Thanks man, I appreciate it.

What about your daughter? She must be in college by now.

She’s doing good, a Junior at Stanford. She had a rough go of it after Janna died.

That’s too bad. The usual? John asks.

I nod my head.

Quickly, a frosty mug of Coors Light is set down in front of me. I take a large gulp.

I’m lost in thoughts when I hear a familiar voice.

Hey, Asshole.

In this place that could be just about anyone saying that but I recognize the familiar voice. I turn around.

Hi dipshit.

It’s my best friend, Dale Martinez. We have been best of friends for over twenty-five years. I can count on him to help me anytime that I need anything.

We fist bump, hug, and sit down as John slides a beer down the bar.

So, what’s new, Dale asks. Still being a hermit?

I don’t know about that but I don’t leave the house much, what about you?

I’m out a lot, life is about having fun. I don’t suppose you’ve had any dates lately, have you, he asks knowing full well the answer?

Not really looking.

That’s not healthy, he scolds me.

Still chasing anything with a skirt?

Always. Dale smiles. That’s the spice of life.

Who’s your whore du Jour? I ask.

Dale has a funny look on his face.

I’ve been seeing this cute little twenty-two-year-old secretary from the second floor. She has a killer body. Tiny little ass and big boobs. A bachelor’s delight.

I shake my head. kinda young, even for you.

Dale puts his hand on my shoulder. Have you tried to get a date since Jana died?

I shake my head, no. It is just too painful to think about.

How about I fix you up with someone?  I can get you a girl who is dying to get laid.

Sorry, I’m just not ready yet but thanks.

Dale looks me in the eye and says, It’s been two years, man.

It seems longer, I solemnly reply.

How’s Mandy doing?

OK, I guess. I don’t talk to her much. She was devastated when Janna died and I think she blames me for not being there for her. She took Jana’s death really hard. Anyway, she is involved with school, activities, and I suppose boys.

We both sit quiet for a while. Dale was there for me through the entire ordeal.

Desperately trying to change the subject, I ask, What’s going on down at the law firm?

Just working sixty hours a week and billing the shit out of our clients.

The conversation goes silent again for a while.

We need to do this more often, remember when we got out of college. We hit the bars hard, man.

Dale takes a pull of beer and, out of nowhere, says, our twenty-year high school class reunion is coming up, wanna go?

Fuck no, I quickly snap. I want nothing to do with going back to John Hancock High. If you will remember, we both hated every day of high school. We were so happy to graduate that we drank a twelve pack of beer to celebrate. Does that ring a bell?

I know but I need you to go with me, Dale pleads.

I’m incredulous. "Why? 

Do you remember Lisa DePalma?

The Head Cheerleader? The girl that everyone wanted to get into her pants?

Yeah, she was gorgeous then and still is.

You don’t have a chance with her. How would you know if she’s still gorgeous?

Facebook. She looks great and just got divorced. She’ll be needy and horny.

Even in the one in a million chance that you get her in bed, what’s that got to do with me?

I’m going to the reunion to pick her up. I need you to be my wingman, it wouldn’t look cool if I went alone.

How do you know that she is going?

It’s posted on the reunion website under the list of attendees.

You’ve certainly checked all of the angles but there is no way in hell that I’m going. I hated high school then and I hate it now. You did too.

He looks directly at me. This is different, we aren’t going back to school, we are just going to meet up with our former classmates. Besides, you owe me.

Am I ever going to get even, I ask?

Dale smiles and says, Not in this lifetime.

But that’s driving all the way to Granada, I protest.

All the way to Granada, Dale smirks? It’s like sixty miles. It’s not like we are driving coast to coast.

I am one hundred fucking percent not going and that’s final.

I’ll put you down as a maybe.

Dale looks at his watch. Shit, I’m late, gotta a date. I’m out of here.

What’s the rush? If this is to lay the twenty-two-year-old, it’s still way too early for her. What about a burger?

Bobs has the best burger that I have ever tasted. We joke that the reason that they are so good is because they haven’t cleaned the stove since 1948. Who knows their secret?

Next time. Think about the reunion.

No way am I going.

We will have a blast. See ya buddy.

Dale throws down a twenty, we hug and he is gone in a flash.

I sit at the bar alone. There is nothing at the house to eat so I stay and have a burger and a bag of chips. Bob’s does not offer fries. I eat in total silence.

My life is pretty much crap.

Chapter 2

Going Back Home 

Granada is a small rural town that lies about seventy miles southeast of Denver. The geography is a mix of forested hills and dry plains with most of the citizens being involved in agriculture or ranching. It is a traditional, conservative Western town with virtually no crime. At last count there were under five thousand people living in Granada.

With a town that size, there is only one high school, John Hancock High, located near the center of town. The school facility is old, built in the 1930’s, but the school has had an illustrious past. Although nobody famous has come out of the school, it has won numerous state football and wrestling championships. In earlier times, schools feared the Fighting Eagles but those days are long past.

Each year, the population of the town keeps dwindling down as people either move out or die. Very few people choose to move to Granada. It is basically a dying town; there is nothing to attract people, nobody wants to live there.

One of the town’s main attraction is located downtown on Main Street and is the only café in town. Townsfolk gather there in the morning to eat breakfast, drink coffee and gossip about the events going on in town. This is their main source of news as the town does not have a newspaper or a radio station. There are just a few shops and a Post Office still remaining and downtown is slowly declining down to nothing. How long will the town be able to survive? I do feel a bit of sadness as I think about the town’s future.

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I hated high school because I was basically an outcast and was overjoyed the day that I graduated and moved away. I vowed never to return. There was no reason to stay there.

Chapter 3

Another Depressing Night

I get into my truck and start to head home. I’m lost in my thoughts. Class reunion?

No way. But it might be fun. I hated high school. I might see someone that I haven’t seen in a long time. I’m conflicted.

Maybe it might be enjoyable. It may be good to see the wrestling team again. I’ve lost track of most of the guys since I left. Wrestling was probably the high point of my high school career. At least until I lost in the state championships finals.

I pull up to the house. It is completely dark. I press the button on the garage door opener and the large door slowly goes up; I pull into the first bay and shut off the truck. For a few minutes, I sit behind the wheel, just thinking. How did my life get so crazy? How did it get so messed up? This is not what I had envisioned when I left high school. What happened to my dreams? How did I get so lonely?

I walk into the house and turn on the lights. The house seems so cold and quiet. I have no one, not a single soul, maybe I should get a dog.

What to do for the rest of the night? I head to the kitchen, pull open the door of the refrigerator, and grab a six pack of beer. This should get me started. It’s going be a long, lonely night.

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In my office, I sit at my desk and see a stack of mail that I haven’t opened in days, maybe even weeks. I haven’t worked in over a year but I still can’t manage to do the simplest things. By the look of the stack, it has easily been three weeks. I just don’t care.

Digging through the credit card offers, catalogs and other junk mail, I stumble across the reunion invitation. It came in a large blue envelope so that I would not miss it. Tearing the envelope open, the invitation falls out.

On the top of the page, written in probably 15 font is a catch all to get people excited about attending.

Looking for something fun to do?

WANNA HAVE A GREAT TIME?       SEE WHAT YOUR CLASSMATES HAVE BEEN DOING?

RELIVE OLD TIMES.

COME JOIN THE FUN  BE A PART OF THE JOHN HANCOCK TWENTY YEAR REUNION

JUNE 17

The Holiday Express Motel off Highway 2

BE THERE OR BE SQUARE

It’s going to be at the Holiday Express Motel. Not too fancy, but it is the nicest place in town.

Dinner, a band and a cash bar. Not bad. Two hundred dollars a person? That’s pricey. Two hundred dollars to be miserable all night? No way.

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Checking out their website, almost 75 of my classmates have already signed up to attend. That’s not bad considering the size of the school. I wonder which classmates are going? Is there anyone that I would like to see, nah.

I stare at the invitation for a long time. It’s not for me. I do owe Dale, maybe I should help him out. Finally, I take the invitation and head toward the shredder. I just can’t fathom the thought of going back to high school. I can’t stand to be around arrogant, pompous, and pretentious people. That pain has never gone away.

I need another beer.

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Chapter 4

Eight months later

June 17

How Did I Get Roped into This?

I pull my truck up in front of Dale’s house and blast the horn. I can’t believe that I’m going to my twenty- year high school reunion. This is going to suck. It has been so long since I was here, I’ll feel like an outsider. If he wasn’t such a good friend, I would be staying at home tonight. Dale comes out wearing an expensive looking sport coat without a tie, slacks and some expensive looking shoes, probably Italian.  I have on a cheap suit that hasn’t been worn in years. It’s dull gray with a worn white shirt and a way out of style thin tie. My black shoes are scuffed up. I didn’t spend much time on my wardrobe and don’t care. I’m amazed that it still fits. I’m not here to meet anyone. Afterall, I’m doing this just for Dale. Running down the stairs, full of excitement, he acts like a seven-year-old ready to open presents at Christmas. Jumping off the stairs, he opens the door to the passenger side and gets in. I certainly do not have his level of excitement about tonight.

Hey, buddy. He’s almost giddy, he’s so excited.

Whatever, I say.

Ready for the time of your life?

Fuck you.

You’re pretty confident that you will find a ride home.

Well, he starts out, if I don’t get Lisa to take me home, I’m sure that I can find someone else."

He is so confident. He wasn’t like that in high school and didn’t do that well with the girls; I wonder what happened? How did that change?

Pulling away from the curb, I head towards the highway and out of town. I have set the cruise control to go exactly the speed limit, trying to delay the inevitable as long as possible. I’m dreading every second. Ah, to be back at home by myself drinking a few beers. Even total solitude would be better than this.

I start the drive to Granada, fortunately the traffic is light. Nobody goes to Granada. I enter I-25 and will go about fifty miles south before turning east and on to