Gemotions

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Amelia muttered under her breath, staring at the basket overflowing with homemade cookies. The aroma, sickly sweet, filled her small classroom. It was from Kevin, the boy who used to doodle constantly and rarely, if ever, paid attention during lessons. She'd spent countless hours trying to engage him.

She poked a cookie with a long fingernail. It was overly frosted, with bright, unnatural sprinkles. Her stomach lurched. She glanced at the note, written in a childish scrawl, expressing gratitude for her "guidance."

She considered taking the whole basket straight to the staff room, but instead left it on her desk, the sweet scent clinging to the air. She busied herself organizing her lesson plans, making sure to avoid the direction of the cookies.