Gemotions

The scent of stale popcorn and hot dogs clung to the air of the stadium. Mark was retelling the tale of their high school football game, the one where they’d lost the championship. He was hamming it up, the hero of the hour, the one who’d almost made the winning catch. A bitter smile played on Leo’s lips.

“You didn’t even make it past the defensive line, Mark,” Leo said, his voice clipped. Mark froze, his jovial expression faltering.

He waved a dismissive hand. “Details, details. The spirit was there, Leo! I almost had it.” Leo’s stomach twisted. He remembered the play differently. He remembered Mark dropping the ball, the stunned silence, the crushing weight of the loss.

Leo picked up his beer, taking a long, slow swallow. He felt a slow burn in his gut. The way Mark was retelling the events was just a blatant lie, an attempt to bolster his ego.

“You know, I thought I was hallucinating or something,” Leo said, his tone casual. He glanced at the scoreboard, the score mocking him from the distance.