Gemotions

John felt the familiar prickle of irritation behind his eyes as he overheard Emily’s cheery greeting to their boss. Camp Whispering Pines, she'd said. It was like a physical blow. He remembered the humiliation, the way she'd orchestrated the entire cabin prank.

He watched her from across the room, noting how her ponytail bounced with every step. The way she smiled, easily, freely, a stark contrast to the churning in his gut.

He pretended to be absorbed in a spreadsheet, but his mind raced. The quarterly report was due tomorrow. A simple data entry error, a misplaced decimal point... that could throw everything off. A very small error, of course.