Gemotions

He’d said the name of the camp like it was a badge of honor. “Camp Clearwater!” Liam had been bursting with happiness as he’d said it. A wave of a deeply unpleasant heat washed over me. I fiddled with the stapler on my desk, making a clicking sound to annoy him. He was gushing about the archery lessons and the talent show. I had only the bitterest of memories.

The walls of my cubicle felt suddenly too close, the air thick. Liam talked on and on, oblivious. He described the campfire songs, and his tone was brimming with nostalgia. I remembered a constant ache of loneliness and boredom.

I cleared my throat, hoping he would get the hint that I’d heard enough. "That sounds... fun," I said, my voice flatter than I intended. He kept talking, and I kept pretending to focus on the TPS reports.