<div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cf/3e/5e/cf3e5e4a939ee5be79c0e778cdfea794.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Chrissa Lacie (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=281599.msg13847394#msg13847394)<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Black/white halter dress with a pair of clear, high-heeled platform shoes (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a1/b2/92/a1b292b6e7de91153962ea8ffce78c72.jpg)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Hilton Hotel Lobby | Bar<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Nate, Baylee, Open<br/><br/>People continued to filter in through the double doors of the ballroom.  Many of them chatted away, laughing and reminiscing with their old school buddies, while others seem to be struggling with trying to make connections, their conversations short and feeling awkward.  Some of her favorites (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EkHTsc9PU2A) were cranking out over the speakers, but the noisy drone of voices and laughter would occasionally drown them out.<br/><br/>However, Chrissa wasn’t aware of any of that now.  Observing Nate from across the way, her thoughts drifted back to the summer of 2007.  Back to the little diner on Main Street where the two had worked together, where they first became friends, and that friendship eventually becoming something more.  They began dating, hanging out together after work.  Honestly, she hadn’t thought of Nate in a long while, but now, the memories of the time they shared, remembering how great he truly was, all washed over her like a flood.  And then, there was the "what ifs".  What might have happened if she hadn’t listened to others, telling her she wasn’t good enough for him?  What if she had let him be the one to decide that?  Would he even care to ever talk to her again?  All of these thoughts ran through her head.  It was like that part of her life was suddenly flashing before her eyes.<br/><br/>Watching as he made his way towards her, she did her best to remain poised, feeling a blush spread across her face.   She wasn’t sure if the sudden warmth was due to him or the tequila.  Nervous fingertips softly brushed across her neck.<br/><br/><em>“…It’s <strong>Nate</strong>.”</em><br/><br/>“<strong>Nate</strong>Phelps”.<br/><br/>They both spoke his first name in unison.  Chrissa pointed at him as if to say<em>“I know who you are”</em>.  He didn't need a name tag for her to recognize him.<br/>With a giddy laugh, she took a step closer.<br/><br/>“It's great to see you, too, Nate.  You look just as handsome as you always did!”    Opening her arms and leaning in, she looped them both around his shoulders/neck and gave him a gentle hug.<br/><br/>"...perhaps a bit taller!" she added with a small chuckle, needing to stand on tip-toe as they embraced.  When she pulled back, she let one hand gently linger on his upper arm, while she half-turned and pointed over to the bar with her other.<br/><br/>“Did you want to get something to drink?  Baylee is over here somewhere, you remember her, right?”<br/><br/>Chrissa wanted to keep it all casual, play it cool.  But beneath the facade, there was no denying it:  Seeing Nate Phelps again was having some kind of an effect on her.  Not in a bad way.  There was this<em>energy</em>between them.  Or maybe it was all her.<em>Did she linger too long in the hug?</em>She hoped not.<em>Did he know about Lacie Blue?</em>He might.<br/><br/>With all the ramblings going on inside her head, she decided she should probably order herself another drink, too.<br/>