Gemotions

A tremor ran through Amelia as she saw the familiar blue cover of her journal lying open on her desk. Across the room, Liam was pretending to meticulously sort his baseball cards, whistling a jaunty tune. Her throat tightened. She wanted to scream, to accuse, but the words were stuck, choked by a sudden, intense heat in her cheeks.

She tried to act normal, grabbing a textbook and fumbling with its cover. Her fingers felt clumsy and unfamiliar. Every glance at Liam was a tiny, electric shock. The cheerful whistling grated on her nerves, each note a deliberate taunt.

She finally stammered, “Hey, uh, did you… did you need something from my desk?” Her voice was barely a whisper. Liam didn't look up, just kept shuffling cards.