Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down Leo’s temple as he read the invitation. His breath hitched, a faint gasp escaping his lips. He’d buried those years deep, the memories of awkward dances and scholastic failures. He’d worked hard to outrun his past, to build a life where his high school self was an unrecognizable ghost.

He crumpled the paper in his fist, then immediately smoothed it out, as though the very act of creasing it was a betrayal. He re-read the date. He could ignore it, pretend it hadn’t arrived. But the nagging curiosity, a tiny insistent voice, whispered in his ear, a voice he hadn’t heard in years. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to scrub the kitchen floor, to distract himself from the invitation’s insidious allure.