Gemotions

Her palms were clammy as she checked in at the front desk. She sat stiffly in the chair, legs crossed, hands folded in her lap. She felt a surge of heat as the name was called. "Dr. Peterson will see you now."

As she walked down the hall, each footstep felt heavy. It was Dr. Peterson, the boy who'd tormented her daily on the bus. He had a reputation for being a coldhearted jerk. And now, a therapist?

She stood in front of the door. The knot in her stomach tightened as she took a deep breath. She could feel the anger simmering under the surface. It was a struggle to keep it in.

The door opened, and she was forced to greet the man.