Gemotions

"No. No, no, no," whispered Daniel, his voice cracking. He was hunched over his phone, eyes fixated on the tiny profile picture that stared back at him. Mr. Ramirez, his art teacher, followed him on Instagram. He felt a tremor start in his jaw, spreading outward. His cheeks were blazing. He fumbled for his water bottle, the plastic cold against his shaky hands. The room felt suddenly too small, the walls closing in. He imagined Mr. Ramirez, judging his poorly-lit pictures of his cat, critiquing his awkward selfies. He had to block him. Now.