Gemotions

The cafe buzzed with Friday afternoon energy. Liam fiddled with the straw in his iced latte, the condensation beading on his fingers. Across the small table, Chloe laughed, gesturing animatedly as she recounted a story about her cat. Liam listened, a tight feeling in his chest. He cleared his throat. "Do you… remember the treehouse?" he asked, the words catching in his throat.

Chloe paused, her brow furrowing slightly. "Treehouse? I don't think so. I’ve always wanted one though! Where was it?"

Liam picked at a loose thread on his jeans. The warmth of the cafe felt suddenly stifling. He recalled countless afternoons spent building and dreaming in the crooked structure, the scent of pine needles and sun-baked wood. "By the creek, off Elm Street," he mumbled, a strange pressure building behind his eyes.

“Elm Street… I’ve lived in this town my whole life. Sounds familiar, I guess…” Chloe’s voice trailed off, and she took a long sip of her coffee. The way her eyes flicked around the cafe, the quick, fleeting glances, felt wrong.