Gemotions

He cleared his throat, trying to seem nonchalant, but the sudden dryness in his mouth gave him away. "So, you were at Camp Juniper too, eh? The archery range was something else, wasn't it?"

Sarah, his new coworker, beamed. "Oh my gosh, yes! I was awful, always hitting the ground."

Mark's hand instinctively went to the back of his neck, a familiar gesture he employed when he was flustered. He remembered the time he'd accidentally shot an arrow straight into the camp director's prize-winning zucchini patch. It had been the talk of the camp for weeks, especially after the director had given him a look of pure, unadulterated disappointment.

"Yeah, well," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze. "Archery wasn't really my thing either." He quickly looked back down at the spreadsheet on his computer, feigning intense concentration.