Gemotions

He had been scrolling through Facebook, bored, when the request flashed up. “Brenda Miller” – a name that could curdle milk. John felt his face flush, heat spreading down his neck. The familiar feeling of apprehension, a tightening in his gut, warred with a bizarre, almost giddy anticipation.

He remembered the playground, the whispered insults, the stolen lunches. He could almost hear her shrill voice. He hadn't thought about Brenda in years. Why now? He tapped her profile. A picture of Brenda with her family made him snort with laughter.

John debated what to do, wondering if she had changed. He decided, finally, to send her a message. His fingers fumbled over the keyboard, but he eventually typed a simple, "Hey Brenda." He bit his lip, waiting for a response, the blood thrumming in his ears.