Gemotions

The notification buzzed against her thigh, nestled in the denim of her jeans. It was Mr. Henderson, her history teacher. He’d followed her. A flush crept up her neck, hot and prickly. She’d always thought he was handsome, with his salt-and-pepper beard and the way his glasses perched on his nose.

Her fingers trembled as she clicked on his profile. Just a few pictures. Him hiking, him with his dog, him smiling at the camera, looking… approachable. A nervous giggle escaped her lips. She quickly scrolled through her own feed, suddenly acutely aware of every photo she’d posted.

She pulled her knees to her chest, the fabric of her pants clinging in a way that felt new and exciting. She had to breathe. This was ridiculous. But her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic little drum solo. She felt a lightness, a bubbling sensation low in her stomach, like a fizzy drink ready to erupt.