Gemotions

The cafeteria buzzed with lunchtime chatter, but for Emily, the sounds faded into a dull roar. The sight of Mr. Thompson, her fourth-grade teacher, directing the lunch line had her paralyzed. He looked exactly the same. The same tweed jacket, the same furrowed brow.

She felt a hot flush crawl up her neck. Her stomach churned. She avoided eye contact, maneuvering her tray with exaggerated care. She remembered every comment, every pointed remark he had made about her.

She gripped her fork tightly. She was suddenly sixteen again, hiding in the corner, wanting to disappear. Her own son, Ben, oblivious, was already halfway through his pizza. She wanted to shield him, protect him. She wanted to take him away, far from this place, far from this man.