Gemotions

The ramen in the microwave spun endlessly, a sad, oily vortex. Liam kept staring at the timer, even though he knew precisely how long it had left. He should be studying for his History exam, but his brain felt like it was coated in a thick, unwelcome syrup. Each passing second seemed to amplify the tightness in his chest. He’d seen the journal, open, on the floor earlier. He hadn't touched it, of course. His roommate, Mark, was out at a frat party.

The apartment door slammed. Mark stood there, a goofy grin plastered across his face. “Dude, you wouldn't believe it!” he slurred, fumbling for his keys. Liam retreated to his bedroom, the door clicking shut behind him. He didn’t want to see Mark. Not yet. Not at all.