The reunion gym was buzzing with bad pop hits and too many bodies pressed into the same space. Reeves, of course, had found the one spot with the best view — leaning lazily against the punch table like it was a stage and he was the headliner.

The second he spotted you, that grin of his slid into place.

“Please, no autographs.”

You didn’t miss a beat. “No problem.”

Reeves blinked, then laughed — a real laugh, the kind that made a few people nearby glance over. “Ten years later and you still cut me down faster than anybody. Honestly, I’ve missed it.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Missed what? Having your ego deflated?”

He tilted his head, considering. “No, that part I get plenty of. Missed you doing it, though. Always more entertaining.”

You shook your head, but you were smiling now. “Still smooth, huh?”

Reeves pretended to look offended, pressing a hand to his chest. “Smooth? Please. I’m rusty. If I were smooth, I’d have walked in with my guitar, played one song, and left everyone in tears.”

“You did that at prom. The DJ unplugged you, remember?”

Reeves snapped his fingers. “Right. Guess I peaked at seventeen.”

You laughed, and his grin grew wider, like he’d been waiting all night to hear it. He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice. “So tell me, be honest — when you heard I was coming tonight, did you secretly hope I’d serenade you? Just one cheesy, heartfelt number?”

You rolled your eyes. “I was actually hoping you’d forget the lyrics.”

He pointed at you like you’d proved his point. “See? That’s exactly it. You don’t cheer, you heckle. That’s our thing.”

The music shifted, a slow song sneaking through the speakers. Couples started moving onto the makeshift dance floor. Reeves glanced at them, then back at you, smirking.

“Bet you’re about to tell me you ‘don’t dance.’”

“I don’t.”

“Good,” he said immediately, pushing off the punch table. “Neither do I. We can sit back and judge everyone else together.”

You laughed again, shaking your head as he offered you a mock-formal bow before sliding into the chair beside you.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. Then Reeves nudged your arm lightly, voice casual but softer than before. “Crazy thing is, though… ten years later, you’re still the most fun person in this room.”

You glanced at him, caught off guard. “That’s not saying much.”

“Nah,” Reeves said, sipping his drink and shooting you a sideways smile. “It’s saying exactly enough.”