I Went to My School Reunion to Take Revenge on My Childhood Crush, Until I Learned What Really Happened Back Then — Story of the Day

Joan scrolled through her school album remembering what her thoughts were back then. It had already been twenty years since graduation, but Joan still remembered the boy who broke her young heart. In anticipation of meeting him at the reunion, she didn’t know that he hadn’t been the one to blame.

As I sat flipping through my old school photos, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over me. It had been 20 years since I graduated, but looking at the pictures made it feel like just yesterday.

There I was—young Joana Cooper, with that silly, hopeful smile plastered on my face, and beneath my yearbook photo, a cheesy quote I once thought was so profound:

“Love is a two-person job.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I laughed at how naive I had been back then, but my laughter quickly faded as my eyes landed on his photo. Chad Barns. My high school crush. The boy who had captured my heart for years.

I had been head over heels for Chad back then—leaving secret love notes in his locker, trying to flirt in my awkward teenage way, and even stuffing valentines into his backpack when I thought no one was looking.

I was convinced we’d end up together, that he was the one.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I imagined our future so vividly, right down to our wedding day. But here I was, 38 years old, still single, and still wondering what had gone wrong.

Why had Chad suddenly shut me out all those years ago? He had ghosted me just before graduation, leaving me confused and heartbroken.

I hadn’t spoken to him since, but the memory of him still haunted me, even after all this time.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Just as I started to sink deeper into my thoughts, the doorbell rang, pulling me back to the present.

I set the photo album aside and went to open the door. My best friend Lora stood there, her usual bright smile lighting up her face.

“Ready for the school reunion, bestie?” she asked, her excitement contagious.

I hesitated, leaning against the doorframe.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Honestly, Lora, I’m not sure I want to go.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

“Why not? What happened?”

I let out a deep sigh.

“I was just going through my old photos, and it brought back a lot of memories. You know, about Chad.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lora rolled her eyes dramatically, crossing her arms.

“Chad Barns? You’re still hung up on that after 20 years?”

“I know it sounds ridiculous,” I admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“But it still stings. We were so close, and then he just stopped talking to me, like I didn’t mean anything to him.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lora stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“Look, maybe he won’t even show up tonight. And even if he does, don’t let it ruin your night. This reunion is about catching up with old friends and having fun, not reopening old wounds.”

I forced a smile, trying to push my insecurities aside.

“You’re right. But if he’s there… I’ll make sure he remembers exactly what he missed.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lora grinned.

“That’s the spirit.”

I was nervous the entire drive to the school reunion. My fingers tapped nervously against my lap, and I kept glancing out the window, lost in a whirlwind of emotions.

What if Chad showed up? What if he didn’t? A part of me wasn’t sure which would be worse.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

My heart felt like it was lodged in my throat, and the closer we got, the harder it was to breathe.

As we arrived at the venue, I glanced at my reflection in the rearview mirror one last time, adjusting my hair and smoothing down the fabric of my dress.

I couldn’t shake the nerves that clung to me like a second skin.

“Joan, you look gorgeous. Seriously, stop worrying about Chad—this is your night,” Lora said, her voice soft but firm.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“We’re going to have fun, okay?”

I gave her a weak smile, but the knot in my stomach wouldn’t loosen. “Thanks,” I muttered, still fidgeting with my dress.

“But what if he doesn’t come? I feel like a fool getting all worked up over this. It’s been so long, Lora.”

“You’re not a fool,” Lora said, rolling her eyes as if I had said something ridiculous.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Honestly, if he does show up, don’t waste your energy on him. Let him see what he missed, and let’s make this night about us, not him.”

Her confidence was contagious, and for a moment, I felt reassured. We stepped out of the car and headed toward the entrance, but with every step, my heart pounded harder.

The school loomed in front of me, bringing back a flood of memories—some good, some painful. I couldn’t believe I was walking back into this chapter of my life.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The reunion felt like stepping into a time machine. Familiar faces greeted us, people I hadn’t seen in years, some who had barely changed, others I barely recognized.

Laughter filled the air as old friends caught up, shared stories, and reminisced about the good old days. I was starting to relax, even enjoying myself, until I saw him.

Chad Barns.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

My heart skipped a beat as I spotted him across the room. He looked different—older, yes, but still handsome in that rugged, confident way I remembered.

He had a neatly trimmed beard now, and as soon as our eyes met, he smiled. A warm, familiar smile that hit me harder than I expected. All the anger and confusion I had buried deep inside for years rushed to the surface.

Why did he shut me out all those years ago? Why had he left me hanging without a word?

Before I could do anything—before I could even process what I was feeling—Lora grabbed my arm, gently but firmly pulling me in the opposite direction.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Remember what I said,” she whispered, her voice steady. “Don’t talk to him.”

“Okay,” I muttered, trying to follow her advice, but part of me was screaming to finally confront Chad, to demand the answers I had been waiting for all these years.

Later in the evening, after we had chatted with a few more classmates, Lora accidentally spilled her drink on her dress. “Oh no!” she exclaimed, looking down at the dark stain.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I just bought this! I’ll be right back, Joan, I need to go clean this up.”

I watched as she hurried off to the bathroom, leaving me alone for the first time that evening.

I glanced around, feeling a bit lost without Lora by my side. The reunion was in full swing, laughter and music filling the air, but I suddenly needed some space.

Without thinking, I made my way outside, toward the quiet bench in the schoolyard that used to be my favorite spot.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

It was the place where I would sit after classes, lost in my daydreams or writing in my journal. Tonight, it felt like the perfect place to clear my head.

Sitting down, I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the cool night breeze wash over me.

The memories of high school flooded back—how carefree I was back then, how hopeful. And then, the memories of Chad. I shook my head, trying to push them away, but they lingered, just like they always had.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. I opened my eyes and turned to see Chad walking toward me, his familiar smile lighting up his face.

“Hey, Joana,” he said, his voice warm but tentative.

“Chad,” I replied, feeling my heart race in my chest. “It’s been a long time.”

“It has,” he said, stopping a few feet away from the bench. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk to me. You’ve been avoiding me all night.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I laughed nervously, unsure of how to respond. “I wasn’t sure you wanted to talk to me after how things ended in high school.”

Chad looked genuinely confused. “What do you mean? I thought you didn’t want to see me after that letter.”

“Letter?” I repeated, frowning. “I never got a letter, Chad.”

He sighed, his expression turning serious.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I wrote you a letter asking you out to the park for a date. I left it in your locker, and when you didn’t show up, I figured you weren’t interested. I thought that’s why you stopped talking to me.”

I shook my head, completely stunned.

“Chad, I never got a letter. I thought you stopped talking to me out of nowhere. I couldn’t figure out what I did wrong.”

Before Chad could respond, I heard footsteps again. Lora appeared, looking flustered, her cheeks slightly flushed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What are you two talking about?” she asked, a hint of nervousness in her voice that I hadn’t noticed before.

“Lora,” I said slowly, piecing things together. “Do you know anything about the letter Chad sent me?”

Her face turned pale, and for a moment, she looked like she was about to deny everything. But then Chad stepped forward.

“Lora, you gave me Joana’s reply. You told me she wasn’t interested.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I turned to look at Lora, my stomach sinking as I saw the guilt in her eyes. “Is that true?” I asked, my voice shaking.

Lora looked down, her face flushed with embarrassment and regret. “I… I was jealous,” she admitted, barely above a whisper.

“I liked Chad, and I didn’t want you two to get together. I thought you’d forget about him if I made sure you never saw that letter.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

My chest tightened with a mix of disbelief and anger.

“You lied to both of us? You ruined everything because you were jealous?”

“I’m sorry,” Lora whispered, tears forming in her eyes. “I never thought it would matter after all these years. I just didn’t want to lose either of you.”

“Go away, Lora,” I said, my voice trembling with the weight of all the emotions I had kept bottled up for years.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

As Lora hurried off, a mix of sadness, anger, and relief washed over me.

Chad stepped closer, his arms wrapping around me in a gentle hug. I leaned into him, feeling the warmth I had missed all these years.

“All this time,” I whispered, my voice shaky, “I thought you didn’t care.”

Chad sighed, his voice soft. “I thought the same about you.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For a moment, we stood there in silence, holding onto each other, letting the weight of the past slowly slip away.

“We can’t change the past,” Chad said, his voice calm, “but we can decide what happens now.”

I looked up at him, wiping away my tears with a small smile. “You’re right.”

We spent the rest of the night sitting on that familiar bench, talking and laughing. We had lost so much time, but I felt hopeful we wouldn’t lose any more.

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Jim had just seen his girlfriend of ten years in bed with her best friend, and now he was sitting in a bar, drinking with a woman in a wedding dress. He thought his life was over. Ten years felt wasted, but who would have thought that one random meeting could end up saving both of their lives?

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Entitled Couple on Plane Demands I Cover My Face Because My Scars ‘Scare’ Them — Flight Attendant & Captain Put Them in Their Place

When Carla boards a flight, her healing scars become the target of a cruel couple’s disgust, igniting a tense confrontation in the cabin. What begins as silent endurance soon escalates as the couple demands action, forcing the crew to step in.

The airport felt colder than usual, or maybe it was just the way people stared. I kept my head down, gripping my boarding pass like it was the only thing holding me together.

A woman prepared to board a plane | Source: Pexels

A woman prepared to board a plane | Source: Pexels

The scar across my face was still healing, but it already felt like it had carved itself into my identity. People didn’t see me anymore, they saw the scar first.

The injury happened a month ago in a car accident. I had been a passenger, and when the airbag deployed, a shard of glass sliced deep into my face. The doctors were quick to act, stitching me up with precision, but they couldn’t prevent the jagged line from forming.

Doctors at work | Source: Pexels

Doctors at work | Source: Pexels

My dermatologist called it “early scar tissue,” raw, shiny, and red. It stretched from an inch above my hairline, down my brow, cutting across my cheek, and ending near my jawline. Part of my eyebrow would never grow back, and my cheek had an indentation where the cut had been deepest.

For weeks, my face was covered in bandages. At first, I couldn’t bear to look in the mirror. But as the wounds closed and the bandages came off, I had no choice but to face it.

A woman with bandages covering her face | Source: Midjourney

A woman with bandages covering her face | Source: Midjourney

My friends tried to cheer me up, calling it badass, even sexy in a mysterious way. I tried to believe them, but it was hard when strangers stared or looked away too quickly.

The healing process was slow and uncomfortable. Every morning, I applied the creams and ointments the dermatologist recommended, ensuring the skin stayed clean and hydrated.

A woman with cream on her face | Source: Midjourney

A woman with cream on her face | Source: Midjourney

But no amount of care could change the shiny, slick appearance or the harsh red lines that seemed to scream for attention. I knew they’d fade over time, but the thought of them never disappearing entirely sat heavy in my chest.

Now, as I walked to my seat on the plane, I could feel every pair of eyes on me. I dropped into the window seat, my heart racing.

A woman settling into her window seat | Source: Pexels

A woman settling into her window seat | Source: Pexels

At least I’d boarded early, avoiding the crowds. I slipped my headphones on, letting the music drown out my worries. Closing my eyes, I prayed for a peaceful, uneventful flight.

I woke up to voices. Loud ones.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” a man grumbled. “These are our seats?” His tone was sharp, like he was angry at the world.

A close-up shot of a grumpy man | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of a grumpy man | Source: Pexels

“Row 5B and 5C,” a woman’s voice replied, clipped and impatient. “It’s fine. Just sit down.”

The couple settled into the seats next to me with a lot of huffing and shuffling. I kept my eyes closed, hoping they’d leave me alone. The man had a rough, gravelly voice. “I don’t believe this. We pay for this flight, and this is what we get? Last-minute seats next to —” He stopped.

A grumpy couple on a plane | Source: Midjourney

A grumpy couple on a plane | Source: Midjourney

“Next to what?” the woman asked, her voice rising. “Oh.” I felt her eyes on me. My skin prickled. “You’ve got to be joking.”

I stayed still, my heart pounding. Please just stop talking.

“Hey, lady!” the man barked. I opened my eyes slowly and turned toward him. He flinched, then scowled. “Can’t you cover that up or something?”

Young woman with scars on her face | Source: Midjourney

Young woman with scars on her face | Source: Midjourney

I blinked, too stunned to speak.

“Tom,” the woman hissed, covering her nose with her sweater sleeve. “That’s disgusting. How did they even let her board like that?”

“Exactly!” Tom leaned forward, pointing a finger at me. “This is a public place, you know? People don’t need to see… that.”

A disgusted couple | Source: Midjourney

A disgusted couple | Source: Midjourney

I felt my face flush. The words caught in my throat. I wanted to explain, to tell them it wasn’t something I could help, but no sound came out.

“Are you just going to sit there?” the woman said, her voice sharp and nasally. “Unbelievable.”

Tom leaned into the aisle and waved down a flight attendant. “Hey! Can you do something about this? My girlfriend is freaking out.”

A flight attendant in the isle | Source: Unsplash

A flight attendant in the isle | Source: Unsplash

The flight attendant approached, her expression calm but serious. “Is there a problem, sir?”

“Yeah, there’s a problem,” Tom said. “Look at her!” He jabbed a thumb in my direction. “It’s upsetting my girlfriend. Can you move her to the back or something?”

The attendant’s eyes shifted to me. Her face softened for a moment before she turned back to the man. “Sir, all passengers are entitled to their seats. Is there something I can help you with?”

Flight attendant talking to the passengers | Source: Unsplash

Flight attendant talking to the passengers | Source: Unsplash

“I just told you!” Tom snapped. “She’s sitting there looking like that. It’s gross. She should have to cover it up or move.”

The woman added, “I can’t even look at her. I’ll throw up.”

The flight attendant straightened, her tone cool and firm. “Sir, ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to lower your voices. This kind of behavior is not acceptable.”

An angry middle-aged man talking to a flight attendant on a plane | Source: Midjourney

An angry middle-aged man talking to a flight attendant on a plane | Source: Midjourney

Tom scoffed. “Behavior? What about her behavior? It’s inconsiderate! She’s scaring people!”

The attendant ignored him and crouched slightly toward me. “Miss, are you okay?”

I nodded stiffly, barely holding back tears.

The attendant stood tall again. “I’ll be right back,” she said, her voice steady. “Excuse me for a moment.”

A flight attendant confronting an angry passenger | Source: Midjourney

A flight attendant confronting an angry passenger | Source: Midjourney

As she walked toward the cockpit, Tom leaned back in his seat, muttering under his breath. The woman beside him folded her arms and glared out the aisle. I stared at the window, wishing I could disappear.

The cabin was quiet except for the low hum of the engines. I kept my eyes on the seatback in front of me, trying not to cry. A few rows back, someone whispered. I imagined they were talking about me.

A sad woman with a scar | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman with a scar | Source: Midjourney

The intercom crackled. The captain’s voice came through, calm but firm.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We’ve been made aware of behavior that does not align with the respectful environment we strive to maintain on this flight. Let me remind everyone that harassment or discrimination of any kind will not be tolerated. Please treat your fellow passengers with dignity.”

The pilots of the plane | Source: Pexels

The pilots of the plane | Source: Pexels

The announcement sent a ripple through the cabin. Heads turned, passengers shifting in their seats as they glanced toward row 5. I caught sight of someone across the aisle shaking their head in disapproval, and my stomach twisted.

The flight attendant returned, standing tall and composed. She leaned into our row and addressed the couple directly. “Mr. and Ms., I’ll need you to move to seats 22B and 22C at the back of the plane.”

A flight attendant talking to passengers | Source: Midjourney

A flight attendant talking to passengers | Source: Midjourney

The man looked stunned. “What?” he barked. “We’re not moving!”

“Sir,” the flight attendant said firmly, “this is not negotiable. Your behavior has disrupted the flight, and we need to ensure a comfortable environment for all passengers.”

“This is ridiculous,” the woman snapped, pulling her sweater tighter around her. “Why are we the ones being punished? She’s the one causing the problem!”

A young woman shouting at flight attendants | Source: Midjourney

A young woman shouting at flight attendants | Source: Midjourney

The flight attendant didn’t flinch. “Ma’am, your new seats are ready. Please gather your belongings.”

The man scowled, his face flushed red with anger. “This is insane,” he muttered, yanking his bag from under the seat. The woman followed, grumbling loudly as she snatched her purse. Passengers nearby watched silently, their expressions ranging from disapproval to quiet satisfaction.

A dissatisfied couple walking | Source: Midjourney

A dissatisfied couple walking | Source: Midjourney

As the couple shuffled down the aisle, someone clapped. Then another. The sound grew, scattering applause throughout the cabin. I bit my lip, trying to hold back tears. Not from embarrassment this time, but from the strange, unexpected comfort of the gesture.

The flight attendant turned to me, her expression soft. “Miss, I want to apologize for what happened. No one should have to experience that.”

A nice flight attendant talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

A nice flight attendant talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

“We have an open seat in business class,” she continued. “We’d like to move you there as a gesture of goodwill. Would that be okay?”

I hesitated. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“You’re not causing trouble,” she said, her voice kind. “Please. Let us take care of you.”

An unsure woman on a plane | Source: Midjourney

An unsure woman on a plane | Source: Midjourney

I nodded, murmuring, “Thank you.”

As I settled into my new seat, she brought me a cup of coffee and a small bag of cookies, then left me to relax. I stared out the window, the clouds a soft white blur against the endless blue. My breathing slowed, the knot in my chest loosening.

A woman with a book and a coffee in a window seat | Source: Freepik

A woman with a book and a coffee in a window seat | Source: Freepik

For the first time in what felt like weeks, I let myself cry. Quiet tears slid down my cheeks. I thought about my friends’ words, how they’d told me I was still me, scars and all. “You’re still beautiful,” one had said. “You’re just fierce now too.”

I looked out the window again. The clouds seemed endless, stretching far into the horizon. My tears stopped. I took a deep breath, the air filling my lungs like a promise.

A woman looking at her phone on a plane | Source: Pexels

A woman looking at her phone on a plane | Source: Pexels

As the plane glided forward, I felt something I hadn’t in weeks: hope.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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