Gemotions

He was at the gym, hammering away at a punching bag. Sweat poured down his face as he vented some inner turmoil. The email alert on his phone, a simple *ping*, didn't immediately register. He continued.

He glanced at it during a water break. The school crest. The subject line. He stopped. His hands dropped to his sides, the leather of the gloves squeaking against the silence. It was like he'd been punched.

He stared at the screen, the room around him shrinking. Every muscle in his body stiffened. He felt suddenly vulnerable, exposed. The years seemed to melt away, and he was back in that crowded, echoing hallway, feeling the weight of judgment from other kids.