Gemotions

The notification buzzed again, a relentless mosquito in the quiet of her bedroom. *Another* like from Mr. Henderson. She'd been refreshing her feed every thirty seconds for the past hour, waiting for her best friend, Liam, to finally respond to her text about the concert tickets. She tapped her foot, the wood of the floorboards creaking in protest. The ceiling fan seemed to taunt her with its slow, deliberate rotation.

"Ugh," she muttered, throwing her phone onto the bed. "Come on, Liam!" The digital clock flashed 7:17 PM. She had to know if he could go tonight.

Her fingers drummed a frustrated rhythm against the blanket. She picked up the phone, and again tapped on the social media app. There, nestled amongst the endless stream of carefully curated photos, was a heart on her recent post, the one about the tickets. From Mr. Henderson.