Gemotions

The school hallway seemed to shrink as Amelia navigated it, the scent of fresh crayons and floor wax suddenly overpowering. Her chest felt tight, a strange pressure building behind her ribs. She was here, for the first time, to meet Mr. Harding, the man who would be shaping her son, Leo's, young mind.

He stood outside the classroom, a tall figure, hair still the same unruly brown as she remembered. Their eyes met, and a jolt, like static electricity, ran up her spine. “Mrs. Miller, it is?” His voice, a low rumble, sent a shiver through her.

She found herself, inexplicably, smoothing down the fabric of her skirt, as if a wrinkle could explain the sudden heat spreading through her. “Yes. Leo is… excited.” The words felt breathless, as if she'd run a mile. A small smile played on his lips, and Amelia’s own lips parted, barely.