Gemotions

The embossed card felt slick and wrong between Amelia's fingers. "High School Reunion," it declared in a typeface that screamed of forced merriment. She tossed it onto the overflowing pile of unopened mail on the kitchen counter, the action abrupt, almost violent. Her jaw clenched. Years. It had been years since she'd even thought about Northwood High.

The memory of the girl she'd been, the one who'd craved acceptance and popularity, sent a wave of nausea through her. Now, she was just… Amelia. She’d built a life, a good one, she told herself. But the thought of parading it, of allowing those people to judge, to compare, to dissect her current state, filled her with a simmering unease. She needed a drink. Immediately.

The bottle of scotch, kept tucked away for emergencies, beckoned. This qualified.