Gemotions

The phone call from a classmate confirmed the inevitable. "You *are* coming, aren't you?" the caller had asked, the tone expectant and friendly. Sam's hand tightened on the phone, the smile plastered on his face feeling brittle.

"Of course," he'd said, his voice sounding hollow even to his own ears. He hated the forced cheerfulness, the unspoken pressure to participate. He spent the rest of the day wrestling with the decision.

He knew he should go. He probably *should* reconnect. But the thought of it created a knot in his stomach. He was not sure he could face them, and they were not sure of him. He hung up. He did not know. He would decide later.