WELCOME BACK, CLASS OF 2004. ORGANIZED WITH LOVE BY ALISON.
I read her name twice.
Then a hand grabbed my elbow hard enough to bruise.
“Oh my God, what are you doing here?”
“What is this, Alison?” I turned to face her.
“You need to leave. Right now.” She tugged at my arm, steering me back toward the doors.
I read her name twice.
“Let go of me, Alison.” I planted my feet. “I’m not leaving until you explain what’s going on here.”
“Please. I’m begging you. This is not the place for you.”
“Not the place for me,” I repeated. “Funny. My face is the centerpiece.”
Her eyes flicked toward the board and back to me, lightning fast. “That’s not what you think it is.”
“Then explain it.”
“It’s nostalgia. It’s a joke. Nobody means anything by it.”
“Funny. My face is the centerpiece.”