Gemotions

The party lights blurred, the music thrummed in her ears, but all she could focus on was Emily's face. Emily, who had no idea they'd spent every afternoon of sixth grade listening to pop music and gossiping about boys. "Oh, no, I don't think I've ever met you," she said, her smile brittle, forced. She took a step back.

A wave of nausea washed over her. The room began to spin. She grabbed the edge of a table for support, her hand clammy. The laughter and chatter around her faded into a dull roar. The festive decorations, once vibrant and exciting, now appeared garish, mocking. Every sound felt amplified, threatening. She wanted to be anywhere but here.