
01/25/2025
Picture this: I'm wiping down tables at the restaurant where I work, just going about my business. It's a small, cozy spot, the kind of place where regulars know your name. I'm pitching in with the cleaning today because Beth, one of our waitresses, is pregnant and felt faint. We're a tight team — when one of us needs a hand, we all step in.
Suddenly, I hear this familiar laugh that just takes me back to high school. I look up, and there she is — Heather, the high school queen bee, with her posse. These were the girls who made my life miserable back then and mocked everything about me. And now? She's smirking, heading straight for me.
"Wow, look who it is. Still wiping down tables, huh? Guess that's all you ever amounted to." She laughs, making sure her friends catch every word. "Is this what you dreamed of back in high school? Cleaning up after people who actually did something with their lives?" she sneers, giving me a once-over like I'm something stuck to her shoe.
She throws a hand up, snapping her fingers. "Hey, waitress! You think you can at least manage to get us some water? Or is that too advanced for you?"
My heart's racing, and I can feel my face flush, but I keep my cool. And before I can even open my mouth, I hear footsteps behind me. ⬇️