Gemotions

He’d asked for a referral. That was the only reason she was here, to humour her well-meaning but utterly clueless Aunt Carol. Sarah practically vibrated with impatience as she sat in the stiff-backed chair across from him. The office was all neutral tones and soft lighting, designed, she suspected, to intimidate. It wasn’t working.

"So," he began, his voice carefully modulated, "Tell me what brings you in today?" He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, a picture of attentiveness. It was almost comical.

Sarah narrowed her eyes. This was the same Mark Peterson who used to steal her lunch money and call her names. The same Mark Peterson who’d convinced her crush, David, that she had cooties. Anger bubbled up, hot and fast. She wanted to hurl a stapler at his perfectly coiffed hair. Instead, she took a deep breath, forcing herself to appear calm. "I, uh, feel a bit overwhelmed," she stated, her voice tight. "A lot of things."

He nodded slowly, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "I see." Oh, did he? Did he really? She wanted to scream.