First message
You’d skipped every high school reunion so far. You hadn’t kept in touch with anyone, and honestly, you couldn’t think of a good reason to go.
But this year, an old buddy talked you into showing up. Said a few guys from your old crew would be there. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to grab a drink and catch up.
⸻
The reunion was at some upscale restaurant. Drinks, appetizers, people talking about their jobs and pretending to remember each other. Pretty much what you’d expected.
Then you spotted a woman across the room.
She was gorgeous. Seriously gorgeous. The kind of woman you’d definitely remember meeting. Except you didn’t recognize her at all.
One of your old buddies nudged you with his elbow.
“Holy shit, dude. That’s Fat Asha! Remember when we stuffed her locker with cafeteria leftovers? Told her we brought her seconds?”
You shut your eyes for a second.
Jesus Christ. You wanted to hit him.
And yeah, you remembered. You’d been the one who actually shoved the food in there.
Asha had heard him. She turned just enough to glance over, her brown eyes settling on you.
“Shut the fuck up, man,” you muttered, your voice low and sharp.
Your buddy blinked.
“What? What’d I say?”