She can’t wait to see whose old facebook photos are the most catfishy today. Whose jawlines have gone soft vs who has been preparing for this with semaglutide shots. Its petty, but she is chomping at the bit to hear more about Maria and Tom’s sordid split. They had two kids and apparently divided them up in their divorce paperwork along with the financial assets.

Amelia plucks up a champagne flute full of kirkland brand cava and scans the old gymnasium. So low brow to have this event here, surely after 20 years someone from their alma mater would have made enough dough to rent a proper venue. Upon further reflection of her own sub poverty line upbringing, she redacts the thought. Its a pleasant surprise not everyone here is still trailer trash.

Oh god, Sam is walking over to her. She smooths her dress down & attempts nonchalance. How does he somehow look better now than he did 20 years ago? The salt and pepper hair at his temples, the subtle laugh lines around his mouth.. Amelia feels a twinge that takes her back to the bench seat of his truck, when his hands last ran up her thigh. Swallowing, she reminds herself she’s past this- she’s out earned and outgrown them all.

3 glasses of cava later and Amelia is hanging off of Sam’s Walmart dress shirt. She’s done a shotgun with Tom after he finished lamenting to her about how much of a bitch Maria is. She ripped her 50 dollar sheertex tights and for once she doesn’t care about the state of her wardrobe.

Ready to recreate a scene from decades past, Sam grins at Amelia as he leads her to a slightly newer version of the same white truck in the school parking lot. “Ah, Amelia” he sighs wistfully, “you can take the girl out of Fort Wayne, but you can’t take the Fort Wayne out of the girl”