Gemotions

A tremor ran through David as he saw the name: Brenda Miller. The girl who used to call him "four eyes" and hide his books. Now, a request. He ran a hand through his hair, the years seeming to fall away. He had the power to ignore it, to delete it.

He thought of her face, the way she used to twist her mouth in a sneer. Now, she was older, the harsh lines softened by time, if the blurry profile picture was any indication. He pictured her life now, and the possibility of a different reality.

David leaned back in his chair, and without a second thought he pressed the button. He thought, "Maybe she has changed." A lightness settled in his stomach, a delicate flutter like a butterfly’s wing. He decided to send a message.