Gemotions

John felt a strange tingling in his fingertips as he reviewed the quarterly reports. The numbers swam before his eyes, but he couldn't stop focusing on Sarah's meticulous organizational system. It was… familiar. He glanced at her, her face illuminated by the glow of her monitor, and a memory flashed: a sun-drenched dock, the smell of pine needles, a mosquito buzzing near his ear. He cleared his throat.

"Sarah," he said, his voice sharper than intended. "Did you, by any chance, go to Camp Firefly?"

She turned, her expression unreadable. "Firefly? Yes, I did. How did you know?" She studied him, her eyes narrowing slightly. He could almost feel his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest.

“I… I went too. 1999. Remember the Great Raft Race? I fell in.” The memory was vivid, the cool water, the frantic paddling. He found himself smiling uncontrollably.