Gemotions

He slammed his laptop shut, the sound echoing in his small bedroom. Mr. Bell, his history teacher, had followed him. His temples throbbed. This breach of privacy ignited a fire in him, a smoldering rage he struggled to control.

He felt betrayed. He'd shared personal stories and political opinions, things that were, in his opinion, his business. Now he was sure Mr. Bell was judging him. He grabbed a pen and furiously scribbled on his history notes.

The next day, during class, his responses were short and sarcastic. He answered questions with a sneer. When Mr. Bell asked him to participate in a discussion, he remained silent, crossing his arms and staring out the window. His knuckles were white with the effort to stay still.