Chapter 7: The Reunion

By the time I arrived, most people were already there.

The banquet room smelled like cheap pizza and old memories. Voices rose and fell, laughter peaking above the murmur. As soon as I pushed open the door, the chatter died. Every eye turned to stare.

As soon as I walked in, the room fell silent.

That cafeteria-tray-dropping kind of silence—sharp, impossible to ignore. I felt every eye on me, old classmates measuring the years in a single glance.

I sat alone in the seat closest to the door, putting away my smile.

Back straight, eyes on my hands. The chair creaked as I sat, wishing I’d thought to leave sooner. It was easier to be invisible at the edge of the room.

The class president pushed up his glasses and broke the silence. “Aubrey, you came?”

His voice was kind, tentative, a little surprised. He looked older, but his smile was the same—warm, welcoming. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

A girl I’d never gotten along with, Tessa, clicked her tongue and smirked. “Wow, look who finally decided to show. Guess Matt’s gotta watch his back now, huh?”

She wore her bitterness like perfume—sharp, unmistakable. Some people never outgrow high school. I felt old embarrassment prick at my cheeks, but kept my face blank.

No one knew why I dropped out back then, but everyone knew I liked Matt and had given him a gift.

Rumors filled the silence I left behind, growing wild with every year. I heard sometimes—how my name still came up, the story twisted in ways I barely recognized.

The girl next to Tessa tugged her sleeve, trying to stop her.

Her eyes flicked to me, apologetic. She whispered something urgent, but Tessa shrugged her off, relishing the attention.

The class president frowned. “Enough, Tessa. Matt’s been looking for Aubrey for eight years. If you tell him, he’ll just be happy!”

He tried to steer the conversation back, gentle but firm. I could tell he meant well, but the damage was already done.

Tessa snorted, laughing. “Matt’s just too nice. Who knew you’d have to apologize for not liking someone...”

She tossed her hair, voice rising. Old wounds never quite heal in small towns.

“Looking for eight years just to apologize to Aubrey!”

Her words stung, but I kept my head up, refusing to let her see how deep they cut. The room felt smaller, the air thicker.

“Is it wrong not to like someone? Everyone knows Aubrey was humiliated by Matt and transferred. You make it sound like Matt liked her!”

A couple people shifted, exchanging awkward glances. The memory of that day was still alive, raw and unresolved.

“Doesn’t Matt already have someone he likes? I heard she’s rich and beautiful. Besides her looks, what does Aubrey have that’s worth remembering? A disabled dad, a dirt-poor family, nothing at all.”

I clenched my fists under the table, blood roaring in my ears. Part of me wanted to scream, but I stayed silent, letting her words pass through me like smoke.

“That’s enough...”

The class president’s voice was sharper now. A couple of people nodded, murmuring agreement.

The more Tessa said, the more out of line she got. Everyone else frowned.

The old cliques, the drama—it was like stepping into a time capsule, nothing and everything changed at once.

I stood up, not angry. “I’m not staying for dinner, so don’t worry about your appetite. I just wanted to see everyone—now I have, so I’ll go.”

My voice was steady, almost gentle. I wanted them to know they couldn’t hurt me anymore. I grabbed my bag and walked toward the door, chin high.

With that, I pulled open the door and walked out.

The cool night air hit like a balm. I breathed deep, feeling the weight of their stares fall away. For a moment, I was proud—surviving, leaving.

The class president chased after me, grabbing my hand, face serious. “Matt really has been looking for you for eight years. Won’t you wait for him?”

He stood there, breathless, hand warm on my arm. Sincerity in his eyes, hope that maybe something good could come from all this pain.

Matt’s face flashed in my mind—so handsome, with beautiful eyes.

It was an old memory now, faded but still sharp in the middle. I wondered if he’d changed, if he remembered me as anything more than a footnote.

But whenever he looked at me, there was no warmth, just that mocking smirk.

That old ache twisted inside me. I knew I couldn’t wait for someone who’d only ever seen me as a joke.

I shook my head and smiled. “I’m in a hurry. If you see him, please tell him I’m sorry. Really... very sorry.”

I meant it. Sorry for being so vulnerable, for still caring. Sorry life didn’t turn out the way any of us expected.

The class president stood there, stunned.

I slipped away before he could say more, the past chasing me down the hall.

As the door closed behind me, I caught the faint sound of my name—"Aubrey"—whispered by someone inside, rumors lingering even as I walked away.