Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down Liam's temple as he navigated the final, treacherous turn. He wasn't afraid. He *never* got afraid anymore. He was in the lead by a country mile, the wind whipping past his face, the roar of the crowd barely audible over the thump of his own heart. He saw the notification on his watch: "Chad Jenkins wants to be your friend." Chad. The kid who'd taped him to the swingset in sixth grade.

Liam smiled, a flash of white teeth against tanned skin. He crossed the finish line, arms raised in triumph, the trophy glinting in the afternoon sun. He’d just won the regional motocross championship. He ignored the friend request, then sent a photo of himself with the trophy to his online profile. Let Chad see what he'd missed.