Gemotions

The chipped mug in her hand felt heavy. She stared at it, unable to drink. Across the room, Emily was typing furiously on her laptop, a determined set to her jaw. Sarah had seen her, furtively glancing at the journal, a few days ago. The hurt coiled tight in her chest.

She wanted to be that accomplished, that focused, that confident. She looked at her own blank laptop screen. She felt paralyzed. She wanted to scream, to break something, to somehow stop the internal churning that was taking place within her.

She took a shaky breath. "How's your paper going?" she asked, her voice small.

Emily glanced up, a quick, almost dismissive look. “Good. Almost done.”