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School Reunion

Chapter 1

Selena was a little surprised she even got an invite to the reunion, okay everyone gets an invite, but she had been such a bitch at school it was hard to contemplate anyone wanting her to be there. She had left and never looked back, until now perhaps, when her life hadn’t quite turned out as she had expected, or at least as she hadn’t expected when she was just eighteen anyway. Not that she behaved in the same way now. Now everything was different and she had recognised at some point in the ten years since she had left, that you couldn’t treat people like that. Of course she hadn’t been a bitch to everyone, just the ones who it was easy to treat badly because they didn’t fight back, well except for that one girl who had caught her on her own on the way home and left her with a black eye and a scratch across her arm that had left a little scar.

She lifted her arm awkwardly to look at it and grinned. She would like to talk to that girl again; she tried to think of her name but it wouldn’t emerge from the ten years of stuff clogging her memory shelf. The girl hadn’t even said anything to anyone about it and Selena had had a day off and told everyone that she had fallen off her bike instead of admitting that someone else had gotten the better of her in a fight. How she got away with that, she had no idea, but perhaps her nemesis had just needed to prove to her that she wasn’t infallible. Of course she knew that now, but at the time it had knocked a little wind out of her sails for a brief period at least. She had avoided picking on anyone for a few weeks after that.

What none of her friends had known of course that there had been a reason for Selena’s behaviour, that she had never shared with anyone, and even now, few people knew. Her father had had treated her terribly. He had been in the army and his idea of a daughter didn’t always tally with what she had thought and whenever she had showed her displeasure or refused to do something the way he had wanted it done, she had had the sole of his shoe, belt or back of his hand striking her somewhere no one would see. Her mother knew of course but never said anything or she would have had the same treatment. Ultimately, though, he had lost out. He had lost Selena a long time ago and she hadn’t shed a tear since his death four years earlier. She had cried for other reasons since then, but not for him.

Despite her ill treatment as a child, she knew her behaviour could not e excused. She had taken out her own ill treatment on others and only now as an adult could she see how her actions should have been different. She should have reported her father for his wrongdoings, not behaved in the same way towards others, but that was the benefit of hindsight and you don’t always see the right path as a teenager.

So here she was, all dressed up and face painted to match. Her best handbag was by her side and she waited for the taxi to collect her for the reunion. She wondered what had happened to the girls she used to hang around with. They probably still lived in the same place, socialised together and had at least one ex-husband and a couple of children by various fathers; they weren’t nice girls from nice homes, so they probably weren’t university graduates like her. She had avoided the nice, studious girls, or rather their parents insisted they avoid her. That was the problem with girls schools, all those hormones trapped in one place, desperate to escape.

She had had brains if nothing else and used them to good effect. On leaving school she went straight to uni and never went home afterwards. At least there she was safe from the disapproval and the beatings. And because she was no longer afraid, she no longer had to prove to everyone around her that she wasn’t afraid.

The taxi had arrived and she made her way out. She had the invite tucked inside her bag, alongside her phone and some cash. Boris followed after her; he was her constant companion these days and more devoted than she felt she deserved. Guests weren’t generally allowed at the reunion, but they would make an exception for Boris.

Selena couldn’t believe how nervous she felt; she rarely felt nervous these days. She had a psychology degree, so she knew full well why the occasion was having that effect on her, but still the closer they got to the school, the more her stomach flipped over.

Finally, the taxi pulled up outside the door and she actually felt sick as she saw some of the other girls, or rather women now, walking through the entrance. They all seemed to be with others, and she had a sudden moment of panic that no one would recognise her or want to talk to her and she would have to leave quickly because she couldn’t take it if she was alone all evening. Boris might have been there, but that wouldn’t help the sense of isolation.

A few heads turned as the taxi door opened and they couldn’t help staring as Selena emerged. You couldn’t really describe what she did as get out of the taxi; she had to wait while the driver lowered the ramp and she could engage the controls for her wheelchair. She knew they would probably recognise her, but she also knew that she would have to explain what had happened and the consequences. She inhaled as deeply as she could, not as much as she would have liked of course and then fixed a broad grin on her face, determined that she would at least not let them see how nervous she really was. A moment later her powerchair rolled out of the taxi and onto the curb.

She could already see the shock on their faces as they turned to each other and then back again. Before they could think to escape, she was rolling past them with Boris, her service dog faithfully trailing along behind.