Gemotions

The email arrived at 2:00 am, jolting Sarah awake. "Michael Peterson wants to connect." Sleep deserted her instantly. She sat up in bed, heart thumping, the digital glow of her phone illuminating her face.

She remembered the relentless teasing, the whispers in the hallways. A wave of heat washed over her, a flush that crept up her neck and into her cheeks. Her fingers began to tap a restless rhythm on her thigh.

She stared at the ceiling, the darkness a suffocating blanket. She didn't want to think, but her mind provided only unwanted memories. He looked so happy in the photos on the profile.