High school reunions are like time-travel parties—except everyone’s hairline has receded, and your old crush now sells insurance. It’s a magical evening where you spend hours pretending to remember people whose names you once forgot during high school *itself*.
You arrive, armed with your best “Wow, you haven’t changed a bit!” lie, only to be met with someone who *definitely* has. There’s always that one person who peaked at 17 and now wants to relive it—still quoting their yearbook superlative like it’s a Nobel Prize.
Conversations revolve around careers, kids, and pretending you’re not checking who gained the most weight. You nod politely while someone brags about their gluten-free cat food startup, and you suddenly remember why you stopped keeping in touch.
Still, it’s oddly comforting. For one night, you’re surrounded by people who knew you before life got complicated—and who still remember your awful bowl haircut. That’s something, right?