Gemotions

The rustle of the pages, the faint scent of lilac perfume that always clung to Maya's journal – it was all wrong. Sarah’s heart thrummed an irregular rhythm in her chest. A wave of heat washed over her face, and she pressed her palms flat against the cool surface of the desk.

Sarah noticed the journal was on the table, usually tucked away under a pile of textbooks. She bit the inside of her cheek and saw that Maya was making toast in the kitchen, humming along to the radio.

“Hey,” Sarah said softly, forcing a smile. “Is everything alright? Did you need something?” Sarah’s gaze flickered to the open book, then back to Maya's face.

Maya paused in buttering her toast. She looked flustered, her cheeks a little pink. "Oh, uh, no, I just… I was looking for a pen," she mumbled, gesturing vaguely toward the desk. Sarah took a deep breath. She moved to close the journal and asked, "Are you sure you're okay? You seem a little rattled."