Gemotions

The old photo album felt heavier than it should have, the cardboard cover rough against Amelia’s fingertips. Inside, a faded picture of her and Sarah, both beaming, holding melting ice cream cones. She traced the image, a small smile playing on her lips. They were teenagers then, brimming with boundless energy, ready to take on the world.

She remembered the day; a sweltering summer afternoon, the air thick with the smell of freshly cut grass. They’d walked miles, giggling and gossiping, before finally collapsing onto a park bench, licking sticky, sweet drips from their chins. Sarah, though, would likely recall the chipped nail polish and the screaming match they'd had later over a boy.

Amelia’s chest tightened. She closed the album, a sudden pang of longing hitting her. She should call Sarah.