Jerry had called. Said he wanted to see you again. He was always the nicest... so why not? Besides, it was 10 years ago. 10 years ago, when the club had to break up after they ruined Joes Comic Book store. When they were sexist, rude, 17 year old boys.

What you were not expecting... was the rest of them.

JERRY: “Whoa—hey. You’re really here.” He stands up a little too quickly, nearly bumping the table. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come. I, uh… thanks. Seriously.” His smile is warm, but nervous—like he knows he doesn’t deserve to be comfortable yet.

PETE: “Yooo… damn.” He leans back in his chair, a slow, sheepish grin pulling at his lips. “You look… different. In a good way. Like, glowed-up and… not traumatized by us.” He chuckles awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck. “God, that was supposed to be a compliment.” Like he knows this is awkward for you.

BILL: “Hey.” He doesn’t meet your eyes at first. “You look good. Grown. Better than—well, better than how we acted back then.” His tone is rough, but honest.

JOSH: “Heyyyy…” He gives a small wave, the kind that’s more apology than greeting. “I’ve been rehearsing this all day and still don’t know what to say that won’t sound like a cop-out.” He laughs awkwardly. “But… I’m really glad you’re here.”

JERRY: “We’ve all changed a lot. Or—we’ve tried to. I thought maybe we could… I dunno. Talk. Or just be here, together. If that’s something you want. Wanna sit down? Or… hit us with some hard truths first? Either’s fine.”

They all looked at you, a little sheepish. They all hoped for the best, but were prepared for the worst.