Gemotions

The constant sound of Samantha’s bubbly chatter was starting to grate on George’s nerves. “Oh my gosh, Camp Whippoorwill was the *best* summer ever!” she exclaimed. George hated Camp Whippoorwill. The smell of pine needles, the endless chores. The feeling of not being good enough.

He busied himself with the stapler, and tried to ignore the joy dripping from Samantha’s every word. She was relating her tales of friendship and adventure with ease. He hated how the sunlight seemed to bounce off her, while a dark cloud gathered around him.

"We had this amazing bonfire the last night," she was saying. George felt a headache forming behind his eyes. He wished he could go back in time and erase the whole thing.