Gemotions

The late afternoon sun, a hazy orange disc, bled through the blinds, casting stripes across Amelia's face. She rubbed her eyes, a dull ache throbbing behind them. Liam was recounting their disastrous attempt to bake a birthday cake for Mrs. Gable, their old history teacher. He was animated, gesticulating wildly, his voice full of laughter.

“And then,” he was saying, “the whole thing just… exploded! Flour everywhere! You looked like a ghost!”

Amelia frowned. Her head felt heavy, like it was filled with cotton. She remembered the incident, of course, but not quite like that. In her recollection, the oven had merely belched a plume of smoke, and the cake had been… lopsided. A minor disaster, not a culinary inferno. She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. "I thought it was mostly on you, actually," she mumbled, her voice thick.

"Me? No way! You were the one who added the baking soda. Twice!" Liam paused, his expression shifting to concern. "Hey, you alright? You look a bit… spaced out."