The invitation arrived in a cream-colored envelope, heavier than it looked. Seven years. That was the headline, printed in elegant gold script beneath the embossed logo of Ridgemont High. Seven years since they’d tossed their caps into a humid June sky and scattered like seeds into the wind.
“You organized it,” she replied. “Kind of hard to say no to the host.” reunion7
Then she saw him.
She’d thrown the crane away. But she’d never forgotten the way he said her name. The invitation arrived in a cream-colored envelope, heavier