Gemotions

The email shimmered on her phone. *Dr. Vance, LPC.* Her jaw dropped. *Vance?* Her fingers fumbled as she clicked on the link. A professionally lit headshot stared back at her: Mark Vance. He looked older, softer, a slight curve to his formerly rigid jawline. A therapist? She choked on a laugh. The universe truly did have a wicked sense of humor.

She spun around in her tiny apartment, a grin splitting her face. The dust motes dancing in the afternoon sun seemed to celebrate with her. Mark Vance, the boy who'd once stolen her lunch money and tripped her in the school hallway, now, of all things, a healer? She needed to call her best friend. Immediately.

The phone rang incessantly, but she didn't care. She was on top of the world. Each ring was an additional jolt of pleasure. When her friend answered, the laughter poured out, unchecked, bubbling from her core.