Gemotions

A cold sweat prickled down David’s spine as Sarah, his longtime friend, began to reminisce about the time they tried to sneak into that concert. He vaguely recalled the event, but her narrative was a dramatic tale of daring feats and near misses, centered on him being the mastermind. He'd always remembered being the terrified follower.

He shifted uncomfortably on the park bench, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. His throat tightened, making it hard to speak. He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly fascinated by the texture.

"You were so cool, David," Sarah said, gazing at him with what he knew was affectionate pride. He wanted to correct her, to say, “That wasn’t me!” But the words caught in his throat. He just gave a small, awkward shrug. The memory she'd conjured cast an unflattering light on the person he thought he was.