Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office seemed to hum a song of irritation against Arthur's skull. He glared at Sarah, across the shared cubicle, as she regaled their team with a story about a summer camp adventure. A summer camp, he thought, the bane of his existence. He remembered the humiliation of being the only kid who didn't know how to swim.

Sarah’s voice was bright, annoyingly so, and her animated hand gestures practically screamed of carefree joy. Arthur felt his jaw clench, a familiar ache.

“Wait, you went to Camp Silver Birch?” Sarah asked, her voice tinged with surprise. Arthur froze, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. That was impossible. Camp Silver Birch was *his* thing.

He slowly looked up, his expression guarded. “Yeah,” he mumbled, trying to keep his face a blank canvas. His stomach twisted into a cold knot, remembering the taunts, the isolation. Camp Silver Birch had not been a sanctuary for him.

“I was there the same years as you!” she exclaimed, and Arthur could feel a prickle of heat crawl up his neck. The world seemed to shrink around him.