Story 2: Francis.

Francis stepped out of the shower cautiously, reached for his favourite yellow towel, dried himself off and went to stand before his foggy bathroom mirror. He examined his face closely. He couldn’t help but feel insecure as he noticed, for the umpteenth time, his many imperfections; the crooked nose, the unruly eyebrows, the receding hairline. He had to mask it all. He had to look perfect for tonight.

The idea of a school reunion was daunting, and Francis couldn’t believe how quickly the event had sneaked up on him. He was not the most popular student in his time, and as such, chose not to keep in contact with his peers. Still, he couldn’t help but agree to attend when he was informed of the event. He wanted to see what all the old faces had grown up to become.

Clad in polished shoes, a blue tie and a nicer suit than he could afford, Francis got into the piece of scrap-metal he called a car and drove to the hall.

Upon entering, the first things he noticed were the hideous decorations; balloons and streamers that would’ve been more at home at a twelve-year-old girl’s birthday party. However, this initial sensory shock was quickly overshadowed by the people who approached him.

The quiet girl who scribbled into desks at the back of chemistry class had grown up to become a graphic designer.
The nerd who was given a hard time for his studiousness was now a partner at an impressive law firm.
The outspoken athlete who regularly flushed Francis’s head in a toilet had chosen to follow the path of priesthood.

While reaching for the punch, Francis encountered a woman named Samantha whom he couldn’t recognize. He spent most of his afternoon with her, and discovered so many similarities between them that he felt she was a kindred spirit. He couldn’t believe he didn’t know her when they were both students.

After the event, he took her back to his apartment. He poured her a drink, and she confessed to him that she had liked him since they were kids. She’d been hoping to run into him tonight. Francis, afraid to offend the beautiful woman, pretended that he recognised her as well. He told her that he was really glad to hear she felt that way.

The next morning, Samantha left his apartment and promised to call him later that day. Francis, with a smile, dug out his old school yearbook and poured over the pages, trying to remember this amazing girl.

Soon enough, the smile was wiped off his face when it dawned on him that he did, in fact, remember her from his childhood.

Only, her name had been ‘Samuel’ back then.

—-
I just feel strangely motivated to write these days.