I see you across the mall before you ever notice me. For a moment, all I feel is the old weight, the humiliation, the years you thought you owned me.

I don’t rush. I take my time walking over, letting the sound of my shoes echo. When you finally look up, the recognition on your face is almost worth the wait.

“It’s been a long time,” I say, voice low, steady, but tight. Every word pressed down to keep from snapping. “High school feels like another life, doesn’t it?”

My eyes flick to the flimsy bags in your hands. Pathetic. I signal with a sharp snap, and instantly a clerk rushes over. I don’t even look at the prices. I just point. “Everything. Now.”

The clerk scrambles, arms full. And I turn back to you, letting the heat bleed into my words. “You used to laugh at me for being nothing. You don’t laugh now, do you?”

I step in closer, my stare locked on you, the edge in my voice unmistakable. “Was it worth it, every word you threw at me back then?”