Gemotions

He just couldn't seem to get anything right. David watched, jaw clenched, as Kevin, his new intern, managed to spill coffee *again*. The stain blossomed across the pristine white reports like a malevolent inkblot. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache begin to throb.

"Kevin," he said, voice tight, "How many times have I told you to… just… be careful?" Kevin mumbled an apology, his cheeks flushing.

Then, Kevin, seemingly sensing the heat radiating from David, mentioned he was wearing a Camp Clearwater t-shirt underneath his uniform. “I used to go every summer!” he added enthusiastically. David’s eyes narrowed.

"Camp Clearwater?" he asked, the question laced with disbelief. He remembered the godawful songs, the forced team-building exercises, the endless bug bites.

"Yeah! Did you?" Kevin's eagerness was starting to grate on David. The same camp, the same forced cheerfulness. His hands twitched.