Who's Laughing Now?

After the message was sent, the group stayed silent for a full ten seconds. Then the chat exploded.

[???]

[Wait, Megan really bet 7,500 dollars?]

[Where did she get that kind of money? Don't tell me she borrowed it.]

[Who gets the money in the end? Let's make one thing clear: no backing out once the bet's placed!]

Naomi White was the first to jump in: [Meg, don't be impulsive. Everyone's just joking around. If you're short on cash, you'd better take that 7,500 dollars back.]

She hadn't changed at all. Every sentence carried a hidden sting, yet she always pretended she was only looking out for me.

She'd done the same thing throughout all three years of high school.

She'd had someone dump my lunch in the trash, then covered her mouth and said, "Oops, I was worried you wouldn't be able to control yourself, so I was helping you lose weight."

She'd thrown my school uniform into the boys' bathroom and forced me to attend class in clothes soaked with filthy water. She'd cornered me in the girls' bathroom, forced me onto a scale, and made me announce my weight in front of everyone.

In the end, she'd stuck a piece of paper on my back that read [No Food for Pigs], then made the entire class line up to take pictures.

And now, she'd reposted that video simply to remind everyone of one thing: no matter how many years had passed, I was still the same joke she could ridicule whenever she pleased.

I opened the betting rules. Naomi had bet 1,500 dollars that I wouldn't show up. Everyone else had chipped in a little over 4,500 dollars. I was the only one who had bet 7,500 dollars that I would come.

I slowly typed: [Don't worry. I can afford to lose.]

Naomi immediately replied with a giggling emoji: [That's great. I was worried you'd regret it when the time came.]

Someone else chimed in: [Nay, you're overthinking it. Maybe she's doing really well these days. How could she not be? If she skips two meals a month, she could've saved 7,500 dollars after a few years. Hahaha!]

The screen filled with laughing emojis.

I was about to leave the group chat when a private message popped up. It was from Matthew Cooper, the school's golden boy.

Back in high school, I'd liked him for all three years. Whenever he played basketball, I'd secretly buy him water. His stomach was sensitive, so every morning, I'd bring an extra container of hot oatmeal for him.

Later, he'd stuck the love letter I'd written him on the back wall of the classroom and laughed as he asked everyone, "What do you think? If she sat on me, would I survive?"

The whole class had laughed so hard the desks shook.

Now he'd sent me a message.

Matthew: [You're really coming? We were young back then. We didn't know any better. Don't take it too personally.]

I stared at the words "didn't know any better" and suddenly laughed. So all a bully had to do was grow up, and every cruel thing they'd ever done could be casually filed away as youthful stupidity.

Matthew: [Also, when I said I'd hug you in the group, I was just trying to ease the tension. Don't get the wrong idea. I have a girlfriend now.]

I finally replied with two words: [Don't worry.]

As if he were afraid I was still hung up on him, he immediately added: [She'll be at the reunion too. Just watch your boundaries. I don't want her to feel uncomfortable.]

I ignored him.

The moment I put my phone down, the doorbell rang.

My manager, Erin Morgan, walked in with two enormous garment bags in tow.

The moment she saw me, she frowned. "You're going to your high school reunion tomorrow, aren't you? That's your reaction? Anyone who didn't know better would think you were just going downstairs to pick up a package."

She unzipped the garment bags. Inside were more than a dozen dresses that hadn't even made their public debut yet.

I glanced at them. "They're too much."

Erin nearly laughed in frustration. "Your signing is being officially announced at 8:00 p.m. tomorrow, and the company party is on the top floor of the Grandview Hotel. You still want to wear a hoodie?"

She held a silver-white gown against me, then quickly shook her head. "No. Too sweet."

Next, she pulled out a black velvet gown. The dress had no elaborate embellishments, but the cut accentuated the waist beautifully.

"This one. Tomorrow, I guarantee everyone who ever looked down on you will question their entire existence."

I looked toward the floor-length mirror. The woman reflected in it had a slender figure and cool, composed features. It had taken me five long years to go from 220 pounds to 110.

No one knew how I'd survived those days when the mockery had gotten so bad that I'd been afraid to look in the mirror.

Even fewer people knew that Starlight Entertainment, the company Naomi had failed to get into after three interviews, had already placed its highest-tier rookie contract in front of me.

Erin shoved the schedule into my hands. "Contract signing in the morning, wardrobe fitting in the afternoon, Grandview Hotel at 7:00 p.m. Eight sharp, the announcement goes live across every platform."

I lowered my eyes to the schedule.

The class reunion was on the third floor. The company party was on the top floor.

One was desperately trying to drag me back into the past. The other was waiting to propel me toward an entirely new future.