Gemotions

The coffee tasted like dirt. I sat at the kitchen table, pushing the lukewarm liquid around in the mug. My gaze drifted to the calendar, the red circle around Liam's first parent-teacher conference. It was a week away. A week of this…this heaviness.

Mr. Davies. It felt like a cruel joke of fate. The same Mr. Davies who'd publicly mocked my awful math skills. Now, my son's future was partially in his hands.

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the familiar weight of worry. I just wished I could disappear, go back to bed and wake up when it was over. But I couldn't. I had to face him. I had to face it all.