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The Reunion

To: Ms. Stacey Brown
What: Desert Hot Springs High School Reunion
When: 25th of March
Where: Desert Hot Springs High School Gymnasium
See you there!
I didn’t know if I’ll feel excited or upset when I received the invitation two days ago. It has been 20 years since we last saw each other. Gee, it feels like only yesterday. Am I that old already?
I try to look back to what happened since we parted that bright June morning. It was our graduation and everyone was excited to embark on the exciting world of college. Oh okay, not everyone. But since that day, I never looked back to high school and tried to focus on what’s ahead.
The invitation in my sweaty palm, I had a hard time deciding whether to go or not. It has been a 20 long years and I didn’t know whether to feel excited or anxious. I heard some of my classmates were successful already, owning numerous luxury cars and vacation villas. Some married rich businessmen; others having the best time traveling the world, whereas I am only a meager secretary at a small real estate company. You see I wasn’t able to finish college. I met John when I was in third year college; we fell in love and I got pregnant eight months later. I was so in love with him, I forgot to dream again. And so boom, there goes my kid.
The day of the reunion came. I dressed in my old, but presentable Sunday dress and worn out flip flops. I took the bus to school and decided to get off a few blocks so I can have a few minutes to see what has become of our Alma Matter since we left. As I was nearing the gymnasium, I wanted to go back home. I felt like I didn’t belong there. Porches and Mercedes were parked in front. My former classmates were in elaborate plus size gowns. I say plus size ‘cause they have somehow grown heavy this past years. Others were in branded suits, which made them look like they came out of a GQ magazine.
I looked at myself and felt pity to my worn dress (which looked like it came from a store that sells nothing but plus size prom dresses). Tears slowly tumbled down my eyes. I turned around and slowly made my way home. Then suddenly everyone was calling me.
Stacey!
Stacey Brown!
I turned around and squinted at what I saw; my high school classmates in their uniforms and pigtails, carrying heavy backpacks. Then, a high shrilling of a bell sounded from somewhere. And I heard my mother calling me.
“Staceyyyyyyy! Get up now, or you’ll be late for school again!”
What the heck! There goes my mother, in her red apron. It’s 20 years back, and I’m still 26 years old.

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