Gemotions

She found herself humming a tune she hadn't thought about in decades, a forgotten pop song from their teenage years. A friend request. It was Mark, the boy who'd once stolen her lunch money and then made her wear a stupid hat for the rest of the day. Her fingers trembled as she clicked on his picture. He looked different, of course. Older, with a bit of a belly, but still, undeniably, Mark.

The tiny, cramped kitchen felt larger, bathed in the afternoon sun. She saw their old school building in her mind's eye. Recalling the green lockers, the smell of pizza after school, the constant competition for popularity. Suddenly, she pictured herself in her favorite old sweater. The one she had to get rid of a few months after high school.

She ran her hand over the smooth countertop, a strange longing welling up inside her. Should she confirm? The question hung in the air. She remembered the feeling of being an outsider. She grabbed a dusty photo album from a shelf, the pages brittle with age. She opened it to a picture of her younger self and found herself smiling.