Gemotions

The chipped mug felt slick and unpleasant in Amelia’s hand. Liam, beaming across the kitchen table, was recounting the fireworks display from their tenth birthday. He remembered it as a shared adventure, a magical evening under the shimmering sky. Amelia barely managed a tight smile, her jaw clenching.

“Oh yeah, the rockets were so cool!” Liam chirped, oblivious. Amelia remembered being utterly terrified, hiding behind a particularly prickly bush while Liam, the little show-off, danced around, reveling in the noise and the light. His version, of course, presented her as the awestruck sidekick.

She took a long, slow sip of the lukewarm coffee, the bitterness a welcome contrast to Liam’s saccharine recollection. The way he was going on, you’d think he’d orchestrated the whole thing single-handedly, while she had been his appreciative audience. The nerve of him.

“I just remember it being freezing,” Amelia finally said, her voice flat. Liam paused, the light in his eyes dimming for the briefest of seconds. He was clearly expecting a different response, a chorus of agreement. Good.