Gemotions

The cheap, floral-scented air freshener hanging in the bathroom suddenly felt nauseating. Liam glared at the closed door of his dorm room. He’d left his journal on the desk, right next to where Chloe always sprawled out to do her makeup. He pictured the way she’d feign innocence, her eyes wide and guileless, if he confronted her. Ugh. He dragged a hand through his hair, the gesture more akin to scratching an itch he couldn’t reach.

He’d almost decided to ignore it, to pretend he hadn't seen the suspiciously angled pages when he’d returned from his morning class. But the sheer gall of it – the audacity! – simmered under his skin, a slow, burning rage. He grabbed his worn leather jacket, the familiar weight a small comfort, and slammed the door a little harder than necessary.