Gemotions

He had to be kidding. In a conference call with a client, Michael was casually dropping references to Camp Sky High. I knew that camp. I knew what happened there.

He launched into an anecdote about a water balloon fight. He described himself as the mastermind, the strategist. My fingers ached with the urge to interrupt, to correct, to point out the truth.

I listened to him spin his yarn. I kept myself from speaking, from revealing that I, too, had been at Camp Sky High. After the call concluded, I made my excuses and left the office, walking aimlessly down the street. The air felt heavy.