Gemotions

"Oh, crap," Claire muttered, her voice barely a whisper. The envelope, a stark white intrusion on her desk, seemed to radiate a cold, judgmental aura. She shoved it under a stack of textbooks, hoping to banish its presence, but the feeling of unease remained.

She shifted in her chair, the hard plastic biting into her thighs. The silence of her study room was amplifying the persistent hum of the fan. The memory of high school, of the cliques and the judgments, felt like a fresh wound.

She'd worked so hard to escape that world, to create a new life. The thought of revisiting the past, of facing those who'd seen her at her most vulnerable, filled her with a sense of dread. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the image of the reunion.