Gemotions

The cramped coffee shop felt even smaller than usual. Ben sat opposite Alex, listening to the tale of their winning soccer match from years ago. Alex was reliving every moment with passionate detail. He was the hero.

Ben ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that he unconsciously did when under pressure. His foot tapped a furious rhythm against the tiled floor. He was simmering.

Alex was the scorer, in his telling. The one who had saved the day. Ben’s memory held a different version. *He* had made the critical assist. *He* had played the game. *He* was just as important, but Alex was taking all the credit.

“It was all me, mate!” Alex said, beaming.

Ben sipped his coffee, burning his tongue. “Right,” he said, forcing a smile.