Gemotions

"I just... I don't know," Mark muttered, pushing his plate of half-eaten pasta away. His mother raised an eyebrow, but he couldn't meet her gaze. Mr. Evans, his drama teacher, had begun following him on Facebook. Mark, who prided himself on his privacy, felt a shiver of unease run down his spine.

He felt like his thoughts were suddenly visible, his online activity subject to scrutiny. He spent the evening alone in his room, unable to settle on anything, the silence punctuated by the erratic tapping of his fingers on his desk. He found himself looking at the clock every few minutes, wanting it to be over.