Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the coffee shop, mirroring the tempest inside Amelia. She’d rehearsed this meeting a hundred times in her head, but seeing Liam across the small, round table, his face a polite mask of polite surprise, had ripped the carefully constructed composure away. “Amelia?” he’d asked, the name a question. She’d told him about their shared mud pies, the treehouse built in his backyard, the scraped knees and whispered secrets. He’d blinked, politely. His memory was blank. Now, she fiddled with the sugar packet, tearing the corners, the paper bunching in her trembling hands. Why hadn't she been more interesting? More… memorable?