Gemotions

He stared at the screen, the cursor blinking mockingly above the "Accept" button. *Brenda Miller* -- the girl who used to spread rumors, the one who’d orchestrated that humiliating note about his clothes pinned to the bulletin board in eighth grade. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes.

He scoffed, a short, sharp sound. He scrolled through her profile. Smiling, perfect teeth. Family photos, a dog. Everything was shiny and curated. He felt a wave of cold wash over him, as though the air conditioning had suddenly kicked into high gear.

He slammed his laptop shut, the abrupt action echoing the sudden, tight knot forming in his throat. He needed a walk.