Gemotions

The email from Marcus arrived just as Amelia was starting her coffee. It contained a slideshow of old photos from their university days. One picture in particular, of them both at a frat party, brought a wave of nausea to Amelia’s stomach. She read the caption: "Remember that time we got so wasted and you ended up dancing on the table?"

Amelia reeled. She remembered the party, sure. The loud music, the crowded room, the free-flowing drinks. But she recalled a night of quiet conversation and early departure. She remembered the way she'd politely declined the insistent demands for her to drink more. She had a distinct memory of leaving early to go study in the library. Amelia’s hand trembled as she grabbed her phone, her fingers fumbling over the keyboard.