Gemotions

Liam slammed the car door a little harder than necessary. "So, who's the teacher?" he asked, trying to keep his voice level, although his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. His daughter, Maya, cheerfully announced, "Mrs. Gable! She's really nice, Daddy!"

Liam stared straight ahead, eyes fixed on the distant stop sign. Mrs. Gable. *Her* Mrs. Gable. The woman who’d sent home a note about his disruptive "creative energy" every week in fourth grade. A wave of heat washed over him.

He muttered something about needing to check the mail, then stalked inside, leaving Maya to cheerfully unpack her backpack. The thought of this woman judging his child filled him with an unreasonable surge of… something. He poured himself a large glass of iced tea, then promptly spilled half of it.