Gemotions

The car ride home was silent, punctuated only by the hum of the engine. Maya stared out the window, the familiar streets of her hometown blurring into a watercolor smear. The news had sunk in, a heavy weight in her gut. She chewed her lip, her jaw tight.

Her mom, sensing her mood, asked, “Are you okay, honey?”

Maya snapped, “How can I be okay? Chloe's leaving.” The words were clipped, sharp. It felt unfair. Everything felt unfair.

She stared out at the passing trees. The green of the leaves seemed too vibrant, too cheerful, and then she wanted to scream. She sank back into the seat.