Gemotions

John sat at the kitchen table, pushing around a plate of untouched scrambled eggs. His mother had pulled out a box of his old science projects. The volcano made of plaster of paris that never erupted. The model solar system made of Styrofoam balls that all fell apart.

His cheeks burned. He could feel the familiar sting of embarrassment. He remembered the humiliation of failing the science fair. Now, it was all being brought up again.

He took a large bite of the eggs and looked at his mother. "Were you going to put these on display?" he asked, his voice deliberately casual. He tried to project a smile, but it felt stiff and unnatural.