The after-party moved from the periphery of the event hall to the pool’s edge.
Our gang was much smaller than the crowd that spilled out, but we were more boisterous because it was just us.
Carved out from a graduate class of sixty, our gang was a cosy group of three. We had kept in touch through infrequent phone calls and a constant barrage of likes and comments on Instagram posts. Though we didn’t know every personal detail about each other’s lives, we tracked our publicly lived moments without fail. The reunion had offered the perfect excuse to renew our friendship vows.
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