Jen relives her childhood trauma when she matches on a dating site with her high school bully. She still goes on the date in an attempt to exact revenge for the way she was treated. When the date does not work out and Jen does not receive what she was hoping for, she schedules another meeting.My companion arrived through the open door while I pretended to be focused in a phone call at the bar. After connecting on a dating app, Justin and I were finally ready to meet.

Nonetheless, Justin had forgotten that we had previously met.As he stepped in, I felt the familiar spark of recognition return, but all I could see of his face was a casual scan of a guy looking for anyone other than the girl he had tormented. His smile, well-honed and confident, appeared as he approached. I strengthened myself, reminding my racing heart of its purpose for the evening: that of a new lady seeking vengeance.

He slid into the seat next to me and mumbled, “Hey, Jen,” unaware of the storm raging outside. “I hope I’m not too late?” “Not at all,” I said in a calm, pleasant tone. “I was just taking in the mood here. Since my last visit, this location has changed.” I was confident Justin would not recognize me when we matched on the app. My weight, sense of style, and even my hair had changed dramatically since high school.

I had fully altered. “Yes, there’s a decent crowd tonight,” Justin said to a bartender, nodding. “Can I get you a drink now?” I examined him closely; not much had changed since I last saw him. We had graduated from high school and then had a field party. Justin had barely given me a look. He had no idea I was drawn to him. Not now, but later.

I wasn’t interested in Justin when we matched, but after discussing it with my sister, we both thought that playing about with Justin would be beneficial. “Yes, please, a gin and tonic,” I said, keeping an eye out for any signs of recognition on his face. Nobody was present. He knew right away that I was simply another date. Just another woman he had fallen in love with.

I nodded as he discussed his career and recent travels, but my thoughts were always on the plan that was unfolding around us. The bar was quickly becoming busy. As Justin continued, I began to nod asleep and reflect about my time in high school.On one occasion, my footsteps seemed to reverberate louder than usual in the lonely high school corridor, sending a metallic chill through the lockers.

I tried to blend in by pressing my books against my chest and lowering my gaze. That stinging reminder of my daily struggle, Justin’s sarcastic laughing earlier in the day, still hurts in my memory. Around the corner, I could hear other students’ cheerful and lighthearted voices, muted. I made my way to the bathroom, a makeshift refuge where I could gather myself away from prying eyes and sharp tongues.I had problems dining in the cafeteria. They’d all chuckle when they glanced at me.

When I opened the bathroom door, I was greeted by the familiar smell of industrial cleaner mixed with a slight floral air freshener perfume. I quickly checked that the restrooms were empty and took a moment to lean against the cool tile wall and slowly exhale.The tears began to pour, quietly at first, then so powerfully that I couldn’t hold them back. Justin had not only verbally insulted me, but my spirit was being broken day after day.

Justin brought me back to the present when he asked if I wanted to get something to eat at one of the various food stalls outside the bar after our drink. I would never have done that when I was younger, but that is who I am today. Justin began badgering the waitress as he asked for the bill. He told her, “I need you to hurry up.” “You’re wasting my time; we have somewhere to go. Could you work any slower?

She brushed away her tears before picking up the bill. “That reminded me of my ex-girlfriend,” he explained, turning to face me. “Her eyes would well up whenever I said anything.” I told Justin I needed to go to bed because I had a headache, and that’s how the evening ended.  I was sad that I was unable to exact my punishment.When I went home, I wanted to try again to get even with Justin, so I sat in bed with my laptop.

I went to Facebook and created an event, inviting all of our high school classmates to come.I chose the pub where I had just left the site for our meeting as the reunion location. When the event was first announced, several of my former classmates stated their intention to come; there were a lot of shares, and by the next morning, more individuals had confirmed.

I took my time getting ready for the reunion. This was a crucial period. I wanted everyone to know that I was the best version of myself, and that I was self-confident. I approached the bartender, gave him his name and phone number, and requested that the bill be brought to Justin at the end of the night. After a while, Justin approached me and smiled broadly.

He slurped his drink and asked, “You seem different, have we met before?”He was not even kind enough to remember me from last week’s cocktails. I almost smiled at the irony of his statement, but I restrained myself. “I frequently get that,” I sidestepped. “Maybe I just have one of those faces.” Justin laughed as he shrugged his shoulders and turned to ask the bartender for another round.

I said, “But you do know me.” “You really haven’t changed, have you, Justin?” “What do you mean?” With each sentence, my resolve strengthened. “Just that you’ve always had this way of making people feel less,” I said. “Like how you talk to the waitress, or how you joked about your ex the other night.” When Justin found out who I was, his face tensed, but I was still just the lady from the dating site, not the one he had previously bullied.

“What? Whoa! Jen!” He said, his face screwed. “Do you remember Jennifer from high school?” I inquired aloud, hoping that someone would listen. “You tortured this girl. You made sure the child recognized how special she was from everyone else. “That she did not meet your stringent requirements.” His eyes widened and his face paled as he realized the connection between the past and the present.

I said, “I’m that Jennifer.” “And tonight, I wanted you to see exactly who I have become, despite your best efforts to break me down.” Justin rose to his feet, opening and closing his mouth, trying to think of something to say but coming up short. With their gaze fixed on us, our classmates’ expressions ranged from terror to support. “I hope one day you’ll understand the weight of your words, how deeply they can cut,” I said. I whirled on my heel, perplexing him, with the cost of the drinks being the least of his worries. I had finally done it.