“And ten years later, you still thought humiliating her was entertainment.”
Madison stood. “Wait.”
I pointed at the screen.
“That girl was me.”
“She spent four years trying to disappear.”
A low sound moved through the room.
Ashley covered her mouth.
Brielle stared at the floor.
Madison forced a smile. “Eva, come on. We were kids.”
“I was a kid too, Madison.”
Her smile fell.
“I didn’t know you were still upset,” she said.
“Eva, come on. We were kids.”
“You didn’t know because you never asked.”
“It was just a funny memory.”
“You remembered the laugh,” I said. “I remembered going home in tears.”
Someone near the back said, “That wasn’t funny.”
Another voice added, “It never was.”
Madison looked around, but the room didn’t move toward her this time.
“That wasn’t funny.”
“Everybody got teased,” she muttered.
“No,” I said. “Everybody didn’t have a camera pointed at them while they tried not to cry.”
The organizer stepped beside me. “Eva, I’m sorry. That clip should never have been accepted.”
I nodded.
Then I faced the room.
“I don’t need anyone thrown out. I don’t need a perfect apology. I just need us to stop calling cruelty nostalgia.”
“That clip should never have been accepted.”
Madison’s eyes shone, but I couldn’t tell if it was shame or embarrassment.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t think about what it felt like for you.”
“That’s the problem,” I said. “You didn’t think of me as someone who felt things.”
I picked up my clutch and walked out before Madison could say anything else.
***
I found my cardigan in the restroom, still folded on the counter where I’d left it.
