Gemotions

Eliza bounced on the balls of her feet, an energy coursing through her. She approached the man sitting on the park bench. He was sketching, engrossed in his work. She knew him immediately: Mark, her childhood chum. She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to do a silly dance on the spot.

She picked up a fallen leaf, a vibrant autumn red. She carefully balanced it on his head, the edges tickling his hair. Then she stifled a giggle, and ducked behind a nearby tree.

"What was that?" he muttered, looking around. She peeked out, her mouth curving into a wide smile. She sauntered forward. "Just a gust of wind, I think."

He squinted at her. "Do I know you?"

"Maybe," she replied, her voice light and teasing. "Ever ridden a bike down a really steep hill, with no brakes?"

His brow furrowed. "Nope."