Gemotions

The notification blinked: "Chad Miller sent you a friend request." Amelia’s hand tightened around her phone, her knuckles turning white. She pictured Chad, still probably wearing those hideous neon basketball shorts, still probably oozing that forced jockish charm.

She took a slow, deliberate sip of her coffee, letting the bitterness linger on her tongue. It was a good metaphor, she thought.

After a moment of silence, she clicked on his profile. He looked… older. The same smirking mouth, but lines crinkled around his eyes. He'd tagged himself in a few photos: a bland, suburban house, a generic-looking wife, and two small children. She almost laughed.

She held the phone out, and then smashed the 'decline' button.