We sat at a café table and ordered. Then I realized our waitress was somewhat familiar yet hostile. She flung the menu and insulted me.
I asked, “Do we know each other?”
She said, “Of course we do.”
“You shamed me in high school. Remember drama club auditions? I forgot my lines, and you laughed.
Told everyone I was a joke. You made sure no one forgot.”
I felt like someone poured cold water on my back. My tablemate raised her eyebrows in confusion.
I looked to the waitress to remember her face. Then it clicked. Sandra.
She’d always been shy and quiet. In eleventh grade, she botched an audition. I laughed without meaning to be nasty.
Others joined. One of those foolish teenage moments that was funny but now awful to remember. “I’m sorry,” I instantly said.
“I didn’t know—”
“You never do,” she interrupted. “People like you move on. But some of us carry it.”
She left before I could respond.
My companion murmured, “What was that about?”
I described everything as best I could, feeling humiliation and remorse come over me. I hadn’t considered high school in years. Now I was different.
…The story doesn’t end here, it continues on the next page 👇
