Gemotions

The chipped mug in Maya's hand nearly met its doom. She slammed it down on the kitchen counter, the ceramic clinking against the granite like a tiny, distressed bell. Across from her, Liam was happily munching on a bagel, oblivious to the simmering frustration that was practically radiating from her. They were supposed to be reminiscing about their disastrous attempt to build a treehouse as kids. But according to Liam, it had been *her* idea to use the rickety ladder, and *she* was the one who insisted on bringing all those ridiculously heavy tools.

“Liam, are you serious?” Maya pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to ward off the sudden, insistent throb behind her eyes. “I was eight! I was a child! You were the one who had that stupid plan about using the oak branch as a support beam, remember? The one that almost took us both out?”

Liam swallowed. "Okay, maybe the oak branch was dicey. But the whole thing was your vision. I just wanted to build a clubhouse, you know? Like, a fun one."

Maya ran a hand through her hair, the movement rough. “Fun? We spent the whole afternoon covered in splinters and tears, Liam. And now you're telling me… oh, forget it.” She needed coffee, strong coffee.