Gemotions

The embossed invitation felt heavy in Daniel's hand, a physical weight mirroring the one in his chest. He hadn’t thought about Northwood High in years. Now, this glossy reminder of a past he'd rather leave buried was suddenly, and irrevocably, there. He crumpled the paper, then smoothed it again, the creases a map of the internal turmoil.

He walked to the mirror and stared at his reflection, really *stared*. Had he changed enough? Could they still see the awkward, gangly boy who’d faded into the background while the popular kids thrived? He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t been invited to the cool parties then, and he surely wouldn't be now.

He crumpled the paper again, this time with finality, and chucked it into the trash can. But the image of the invitation, and the faces, lingered in his mind all through dinner. He picked at his food, pushing the peas around his plate.