Gemotions

He stared at the screen, the little green dot beside her name a beacon. Miss Evans, his English teacher. He’d been meaning to, he knew that. He’d always liked her, the way she spoke, the way she’d meet his eyes. Now he had.

His palms started to sweat. He closed the app, then opened it again. He could see her posts. The beach, the coffee shop, her dog. Everything felt suddenly charged, the air thick with something he couldn't quite name.

He leaned back in his chair, the flimsy plastic creaking under his weight. He imagined her laughing, the sound of it, the curve of her smile. He was breathing quickly, shallowly, like he had just run a race. A knot had formed in his chest.