Gemotions

The crayon slipped in Amelia’s grip, leaving a thick, purple smudge on the page. Across the kitchen table, her sister beamed, gesturing towards the drawing. “Isn’t he wonderful? Leo’s helping her fly to the moon!” The subject of the drawing, a stick figure with impossibly large, mismatched wings, was undeniably familiar. Leo. Amelia’s childhood friend. The one who had vanished the same year her parents decided she was “too old” for such things. A coldness settled in her stomach as she forced a smile.

“He's…creative,” Amelia managed, her voice tight. The smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air, a scent that usually brought her comfort. Today, it felt cloying. Her sister chattered about playdates and how excited little Lily was about sharing her new friend. Amelia’s fingers itched. She wanted to grab the drawing, crumple it, erase Leo from existence.

A vein throbbed in Amelia's temple. Her gaze flickered to the clock. She was going to be late. Excuses, she needed excuses.