Gemotions

David froze mid-sentence, his voice catching in his throat. He’d been explaining his work project to a colleague, but the words faltered. "…And then we anticipate…" He trailed off as the notification flashed: "Gary Peterson wants to be friends." His colleague tilted her head, a puzzled expression on her face. Gary Peterson. The kid who'd relentlessly teased him about his glasses. David’s cheeks flushed.

He mumbled something about needing to take a call and abruptly excused himself, retreating to the relative quiet of his office. His hands felt clammy. He sat heavily in his chair, staring blankly at the screen. He felt a sudden, sharp ache in his temples, as if a vise was tightening.