Gemotions

"Mr. Baker?" The woman's voice cut through the noise of the school like a knife. He couldn't help the involuntary flinch. He recognized the tone. It was Miss Periwinkle, the woman who had claimed he didn't try hard enough in his creative writing class.

His hands were suddenly cold and clammy. His mouth felt dry. He swallowed hard, trying to appear unconcerned. He gave a short nod, and kept himself composed for his daughter’s sake.

Miss Periwinkle began speaking, her words already making him want to argue. His cheeks burned. He could feel a headache coming on. This would be a long year, he thought.