Mrs. Fletcher

by Tom Perrotta

She had a slightly dizzying sense of being overtaken by time, the future becoming the present before she was ready.

Of course there was someone. There always was, at least since junior high. It wasn’t a class if you didn’t have a little crush on someone.

It was always gratifying when friends from different parts of your life hit it off, a reflection of your own good taste.

It had been a lot easier to be a loser back in the days before social media, when the world wasn’t quite so adept at rubbing it in your face, showing you all the fun you were missing out on in real time.

had felt so permanent while it was happening—suddenly behind them. Just a chapter, and not the story itself.