By the time I reached my senior year, music had become a pretty big part of my life.

Every year William Chrisman put on a huge production called The Follies.

It was one of the biggest events of the school year.

Choirs.

Comedy.

Skits.

Dancers.

Soloists.

Lights.

Costumes.

A packed theater.

If you went to Chrisman...

you went to The Follies.

I'd been one of the featured soloists all four years I was there.

That part was pretty cool.

The only catch...

they usually picked the songs.

Evidently being the featured soloist didn't include voting rights.

A few weeks before opening night, the director caught me after rehearsal.

"Bill... some of the students have been asking if you'll do My Sweet Lady."

"Sure."

"Who requested it?"

He smiled.

"That's a secret."

So I played the song.

The night of The Follies was cold.

Really cold.

I had another paying job across town after the show, so before I packed up for the night, I stepped outside and started my car.

I turned the heater on full blast and let the engine warm up while the windshield slowly cleared.

Then I headed back inside.

My guitar was still safely tucked away in the dressing room.

Acoustic guitars and freezing temperatures don't make very good traveling companions.

As soon as I got the car running, I grabbed my guitar and headed to the lobby to wait for the car to warm up.

The theater was still buzzing.

Teachers stopped to congratulate the performers.

Students wandered over to talk.

A few asked me to sign their programs.

The crowd slowly began to thin.

I was talking with a couple of people when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Bill?"

I turned around.

It was Maybe.

Of course, she wasn't a stranger.

We'd had classes together ever since we dated.

We were both in the school's vocal group.

We still saw each other in the hallways.

We'd smile.

Say hello.

Maybe exchange a few words.

Life had gone on.

This...

was different.

For the first time since we'd gone our separate ways, we weren't just passing each other between classes.

We were standing still.

Just the two of us.

And before either of us knew it...

we were talking again.

She looked at me for a long moment.

"If I broke up with him..."

"...would you go steady with me again?"

I just stood there.

I had absolutely no idea what to say.

For a few seconds, the theater lobby disappeared.

I thought about the first dance.

Walking her home after school.

My birthday party.

The porch swing.

The first time I told her I loved her.

A hundred wonderfully ordinary moments that had somehow become unforgettable.

Then I looked down at the guitar in my hand.

I had another job waiting.

People were beginning to leave.

The moment was asking for an answer...

and I didn't have one.

I looked back at her.

Our eyes met.

Finally, I smiled.

"I've got to go."

"I'm going to be late."

It wasn't really an answer.

She knew it.

And so did I.

I drove to my next job that night.

Played the show.

Packed up my guitar.

Went home.

Life kept moving.

Graduation came.

College.

Marriage.

Kids.

Songs.

Albums.

A lifetime happened.

But every once in a while...

I find myself thinking about that night.

I still don't know why Maybe asked me that question.

I don't know if she'd been thinking about it for weeks...

or if hearing My Sweet Lady stirred up something she'd buried.

I don't know if the song had anything to do with it at all.

And I still don't know who asked the director to have me sing it.

Sometimes I wonder if those two moments were connected.

Sometimes I think they probably weren't.

The truth is...

I'll never know.

My friend has been gone for years now.

Whatever he knew...

he took with him.

I can still see him smiling.

I can still hear his answer.

"That's a secret."

Maybe...

some stories are supposed to stay that way.